Flavour of the Month
by TexMurphy
Summary: The Titans live in a world of shifting opinions, media power and politics. Can they play the game and win?
1. Azarath, Metrion, Beast Boy!

Hi there, I'm Tex Murphy and this is my first fanfic. I'm rather nervous about how it will be accepted, especially after some of the fine works I have read on this site. The first person's work I read and enjoyed here (and inspired me to write my own) was TheUbu, the crazy Canadian who drinks too much Coca Cola.

Obviously I do not own the Teen Titans, but please respect that the story at least is my original work.

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**Flavour of the Month**

Chapter 01

Raven puzzled for a second, the pen in her hand stationary as she glanced to the ceiling in hope of some inspiration. As she returned her gaze to the empty white page in front of her, the end of the pen tapped against the corner of the page absent mindedly, dotting it with black marks.

"Ummm…" Starfire leaned in closely, furrowing her brow as she looked at the freshly inked dots. "I do not recognise this language. What does it say?"

"Nothing," Raven exhaled with a hint of irritation. "I'm not really a writer anyway. I prefer to read," she said as she leaned back on the sofa, leaving the pen resting on the paper in front of her.

"I do not understand," Starfire puzzled. "If you enjoy to read the books, it should not be difficult as you should be familiar with how the writing is done."

"… It's easier said than done," Raven muttered as Starfire continued to scribble away. It was clear that she had made considerably more progress with her work than Raven. The smile on her face and occasional giggle gave away that she was enjoying this pastime. Raven would normally have retreated to her room at this juncture but Starfire had seemed to be keen and she had agreed to it. "Just a short story…" she reassured herself as she sat forward, re-evaluating the blank page, which was still just as blank as she had left it. Raven pondered about how important the first paragraph was and how it would set the tone for the entire story. It was no quick task to come up with something suitable. She tried to think back to some of the tales she had read and how they had dealt with it. She figured most writers would get writers' block at some point, especially at this stage… all except Starfire.

"Hehe…" she dotted a full stop on her page and turned to beam at Raven. "The first chapter is completed," she announced proudly. Raven wondered for a moment why Starfire was looking at her so expectantly. Then it clicked.

"Maybe … you can tell me what you have so far." That was certainly what Starfire had been waiting for, Raven thought, as Starfire's expression clearly indicated. Starfire picked up her first page and held it up in front of her.

"Ahem." She cleared her throat in an almost theatrical style and her expression looked rather serious. "The tale of the prince, the princess and the evil Grempork." She paused for a moment to check Raven was paying attention. "Once, there was a beautiful Tamaranean princess. She lived a happy life on the planet called Earth. She had many friends who she played with every day, but the closest person was the handsome prince, called Dobin."

"Dobin?" Raven interrupted, realising the poorly hidden parallels between this story and Starfire's situation.

"Yes," explained Starfire, "that is the prince in this story." Raven raised an eyebrow in a questioning fashion but Starfire seemed unphased. "Dobin lived with the princess in a tower and they were very good friends. All of the friends shared many good times together and many fond memories were created," she paused to clear her throat again.

"One day, the princess was talking to her good friend Naven…" Raven sank back into the sofa and made herself comfortable. This was going to be interesting, she thought.

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" 'Oh, dear princess… I was tempted by the evil Grempork', said Dobin, but knew all along that the princess was the one for his heart." Starfire was stood up by this point and was making vague actions to accompany the story with her free hand. Raven had since pulled her hood over her head, using it to disguise her bored expression and frequent yawns.

"Well?" Starfire looked to her slightly listless friend for a response. The wide eyed look suggested she might be hoping for a favourable review.

"Hmm," Raven thought aloud as she took back her hood and combed a little hair out of her eyes. "The part where we… they all swam in the lake of mustard was .. interesting." Diplomacy was not Raven's strongest suit.

"Oh yes, what a fun thing to do that would be. Also delicious," she smiled widely, imagining so much of her favourite food. Raven shook her head, wondering for a second how Starfire's mind must work.

"I am glad you liked it," she said, smiling as she browsed a couple of the pages, happy that her efforts had been appreciated. "Perhaps soon I will be able to hear your tale?" Raven suddenly looked as if she had just been informed she was late for an appointment.

"Err…." she started, looking at her blank sheets. Fortunately her poor explanation was delayed by the sound of the main lounge doors sliding open. The two girls looked to see who it was.

"Hey," said Robin, as he wandered over to the refrigerator.

"Your attire is not usual Robin, what is the occasion?" Starfire questioned, as Robin was indeed not wearing his usual outfit, instead wearing a smart black suit minus the tie.

"I'm just getting into the feel of my new tux," he said, stretching his arms to feel how much give there was in the jacket should the situation require he act.

"It is pleasant looking… but why now, and why do you drink when the risk of spillage is high?" Starfire pointed at a slightly sheepish looking Robin who was drinking milk from the carton.

"Well…" Robin wiped his mouth and returned the carton to the fridge, "We have that award ceremony in a while so I thought I would get used to the tux before we went." Starfire pressed her finger to her cheek and looked deep in thought.

"The one the mayor sent us the invitation to last week," Raven reminded her, "The one at city hall."

"Ah yes!" She remembered and suddenly perked up, "For our services to the people of the city. It will be a celebration of us! I hope we also get to have the party."

"I don't," Raven said flatly.

"So…are you going to get dressed?" Robin asked.

"But I am dressed," Starfire said glancing down at herself to make sure.

"I meant… something different to wear … something for the event." He skirted around, trying not to imply there was anything wrong with the way she was dressed now.

"Is this not sufficient? It has served me well on many an occasion in the past…" Starfire babbled slightly.

"He means something for the occasion, like his tuxedo," Raven clarified from her seat.

"Oh." Starfire had a realisation and Robin breathed a little sigh of relief. "Yes, I think it would be good to decorate myself with an attractive garment if we are to be seen by so many people." She turned to Raven. "Would this not be a good time for us to engage in the painting of the nails and the braiding of the hair?" Raven exhaled and looked at Starfire whose eyes were wide open with excitement. Saying 'no' to her when she was like this was always difficult as it was like kicking a puppy. A sick puppy. Normally she would have avoided these situations by hiding out in her room but she realised this time she may be cornered.

"Yeah Raven," Robin added, walking over to the sofa and leaning against the back rest. "Besides, you need to get ready too; we only have a couple of hours."

"Get ready?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, you must change into something suitable. Maybe something that glitters." Starfire seemed to already be making plans.

"I don't think I own anything like that."

"Do not worry, I am sure I have something suitable to lend to you." Starfire turned to thought. "Perhaps the pink one…."

"This will be fine." Raven's tone of voice indicated that her patience had come to an end. She got up and headed towards the exit. "I'll be in my room."

Starfire looked to Robin with disappointment in her eyes. "Nevermind Star, you can help me with my tie." He took the tie out his pocket and held it in Starfire's direction. She looked at the length of fabric with some confusion.

"Is this also some kind of decorative garment?" She took the tie and examined it. "How is it applied?"

"You tie it around the neck part of a suit, like this one." He said, raising the collar on his shirt. Her face seemed to indicate she understood.

"I think I understand but this black length of fabric does not look very decorative. If it were green it might look more pleasant."

"Err …I think black goes better with the suit." He said, taking back the tie.

"So… one just ties it around the neck and pulls it tight?" She made the actions with her hand which made Robin realise it might be better if he handled this one.

"I think I can manage actually," he said, starting to put the tie around his neck. Normally he would allow her a try, but this was an important occasion and he did not want anything to go wrong.

"Oh…" Starfire's voice mirrored the disappointment on her face. Fortunately for Robin, Starfire was easy to please if you knew the right way to go about it.

"Don't worry though," Robin started. "I'll let you practise when we get back." She lit up like a candle.

"Oh, yes. I would like that." He looked at her for a second and couldn't help but crack a smile as he remembered how innocent she could be sometimes.

"Well then," she said as she finished watching Robin tying his tie, "I shall go and make my appearance more pleasing." Robin gave a small nod of acknowledgement and she disappeared in the direction of her room. He then skipped over the back of the sofa, landing in a seated position.

"Aaah," Robin exhaled and stretched as he made himself comfortable. He reached forward and took the remote from the table. "Let's see what's on," he said, flipping the 'on' button.

"Welcome to a special World of Fungus double bill…" the TV blared, causing Robin to scramble to find the button to reduce the volume. His fingers found the button to change the channel first, but that would be fine for him, as long as…

"Was that not the show 'World of Fungus' on the television?" Starfire enquired, peeking anxiously through the door.

"Err…" Robin thought quickly, "it was an advertisement for the show on another channel."

"Oh…" she said and disappeared again, "most disappointing. I would have liked to have seen…" her voice trailed off and was curtailed when the doors closed with a barely audible hiss.

Robin wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow and allowed himself a wry smile as he started to browse the channels.

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"So her name's Clara," Beast boy looked longingly at an opened letter he held in his hands, "and she totally digs my cute look."

"Uh huh," Cyborg continued polishing the T car with a great deal of care. Beast boy was walking around the car as he spoke, attempting to raise Cyborg's attention.

"She knows all about the Titans, but mostly about me," he stopped pacing and smiled dreamily, holding the letter to his chest.

"Sure thing buddy," Cyborg looked carefully at the headlights, occasionally breathing on them using his finger to remove any marks he noticed. Beast boy glared at Cyborg.

"You're not listening!" His subtle attempts at engaging Cyborg in a conversation so far had not worked and his annoyance was starting to show. Cyborg stood up straight and turned to face his friend.

"Look, I get it. You've got a fan and you're excited," he explained in a matter of fact way, "but the T car's not gonna clean itself."

"Yeah, but she's not just any fan." He matched the lack of humour in Cyborg's eyes with his own. Cyborg raised his eyebrow a little and then shrugged.

"Alright, man," he said, relaxing his posture and leaning against the car. "Tell me about her." Beast boy grinned widely and hopped onto the bonnet. Cyborg looked suitably unimpressed but Beast boy ignored that and happily started to explain.

"Well, she's called Clara…"

"Yeah, you said that bit," Cyborg's thoughts were now on how he was probably going to have to re-polish the part where Beast boy was sat. This did not make him happy.

"Okay, umm… well she's from Jump City. She's my age… she's really into computer games. Best of all though…" Beast boy beamed, "she really likes me." Cyborg raised his eyebrow again and scratched his temple lightly with his finger.

"So… what… you're saying she's crazy?" He smiled, taking pleasure from annoying Beast boy.

"No…" Beast boy thrust the letter towards Cyborg. Attached to the letter was a small photo. Cyborg took the letter and narrowed his eye a little to examine the picture. "See?" Beast boy said smugly, "she sure looks normal enough to me." Cyborg nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. She was fairly attractive, he had to agree, although it would take more than a pretty face to stop him taunting Beast boy.

"Sure, she may _look_ normal," he attempted to sound as serious as he could but a slight mocking edge still filtered through, "but you know you gotta be careful. I mean you just never know. She's already sending you letters and pictures…" Beast boy's eyes lowered a bit and Cyborg smirked to himself as he could almost hear the cogs in his friend's head grinding together. "Gotcha," he said, grinning. Beast boy looked slightly relieved and knew he had been had. Then that mischievous smile crept back across his face.

"Yeah, I knew you were just jealous," Beast boy retorted with an element of scorn.

"Oh, me? Jealous? I don't think so. You can hold on to the crazy," he joked, "now get your butt off my car. It's gotta look perfect since lots of people are gonna get to see it shortly."

"Huh," Beast boy hopped onto his feet, "a black guy worried so much about his ride. You're really playing up the stereotype," he teased.

"Man you can talk to me about black when you ain't the same shade of green as my momma's toilet," he retorted. Beast boy glared right back at Cyborg. Although he felt the comeback was a good one, he was not going to let it show.

"Well that's… erm…" he wagged his finger in Cyborg's direction, "…umm…" His glare faded into a look of thought and the wagging finger returned to scratch his chin.

"Out of ammo already? That girl's putting you way off your game." He returned his attentions to the car and chuckled to himself. Beast boy was short of a good response but he did not have to admit it.

"Well I suppose I should go and make myself look good. I don't want to disappoint the pretty ladies." Beast boy raised his head in an arrogant fashion and strode towards the door.

"Whoa, you know we've only got a couple of hours, right?" Cyborg said, the phoney surprise in his voice obvious.

"Very funny…" Beast boy said in a sarcastic tone. He had a good come back on the tip of his tongue but a nearby monitor made a low beeping sound and distracted him.

"Someone at the door," Cyborg said, stepping over to the monitor. A few button presses later and the screen displayed an image from one of the security cameras on the front of the tower, showing the entrance area. "Oh, it's just the mail man," he said, as if perhaps he had been expecting something a little more exciting. He turned to Beast boy, or rather where he used to be. The door was open and the words 'I'll get it' were left hanging in the air. Cyborg shook his head and went back to the car.

"He's got it bad."

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Raven was annoyed. She muttered to herself as she approached the reception area. It always seemed to be her getting the door these days, even though the others were perfectly capable. Next time she would just ignore it, she decided as she glanced at the monitor to check who it was. The short older man with tufts of untidy white hair was unmistakable. "Open Sesame," she said with her typical emotionally void tone as she pressed a button on the panel. The locking mechanism hissed and then the sound of metal grinding against metal as various bolts slid out of place. Bright sunlight poured through the crack of the opening door causing Raven's eyes to narrow reflexively.

"Beautiful day, eh?" the red faced man smiled. "Raven right?" he reached out with a batch of letters, gesturing her to take them.

"Long way to come for a few bills," Raven took the letters and started examining the one on the top of the pile.

"Heh," the old man chuckled, "it's alright, I've got the boat." He gestured to a small speed boat at the shore. "A nice excursion if the weather's good," he looked at the sky and shielded his eyes with his hand, "like today." Raven looked up from the letters for a moment. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky, while the sea lapped calmly against the island. The temperature was warm for this time of year too. Nothing was particularly 'good' about that though, she thought, returning her attention to the mail.

"Who addresses a letter with just 'BB at TT'?" She questioned, inspecting one hand written letter. The old man shrugged.

"Beats me, I just do the delivering." He attempted to start a little conversation, "so…" he began.

"Thanks for your time." Raven turned around and went back inside. Moments later the man was facing a closed door again.

"Oh well," he sighed and turned to return to his boat. At least Beast boy was friendly, he thought.

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Beast boy arrived in the lobby to see Raven closing the doors. He noticed she seemed to be fairly occupied with a letter she had just opened. An impish grin spread across his face and he rubbed his hands together. An evil plan was in the making. He tip toed toward her, making sure his steps coincided with hers to mask their sound. He was banking that she would be too engrossed in her letter to notice him. Just as she was a few steps in front of him she looked up with an eyebrow raised in a questioning fashion. "Beast boy," she sighed, "if your idea of surprising someone is walking in _front_ of them, I might have to re-evaluate how stupid you really are." He wore his guilty and dejected look well, whether he really felt that way or not.

"Yeah… I guess my plan wasn't too well thought out," he heaved an almost theatrical sigh. The trained eye might have noticed the slight glint in his eye, but it seemed that Raven had not.

All of a sudden his arm shot forward and snatched the letter from her hands. She reacted instantly, attempting to grab it back but she was not quite quick enough. He turned his back to her and held the letter at arm's length in front of him, putting it out of her reach. "Dearest Raven, as your biggest fan…" he read out loud, imitating what he imagined to be an aristocratic manner of speaking.

"Give it back!" she grabbed for it and tried to move around him. He moved with her, keeping his back in her way and the letter away from her clutching hands.

"Please take … the time to … read this small composition … I have put together," his words were broken up by the attempts of Raven to grab back the letter. "I call it an ode to the black rose…" Beast boy paused as he noticed Raven was no longer grabbing for the letter. Turning his head to see what she was up to, he noticed her hood was now drawn over her head. He turned to face her and leant in, trying to get a clear view of her face. "I know you're blushing under there," he taunted.

"Azarath…" she began her incantation, although deliberately leaving a little pause before the second part.

"Err…" Beast boy tried to discern whether she was serious from any clues he could pick up. Unfortunately her even tone and steady posture, at least as far as he could tell under the cloak, gave nothing away.

"Metrion…" His face betrayed that he now believed her to be serious. He took her free hand and thrust the letter into it.

"Here…" he said, a definite nervous edge creeping into his voice, "I was just curious to see what had you so interested," he laughed uneasily.

"Right. So … you came all the way down here just to annoy me?" she started back on her previous path to the elevator, side stepping Beast boy.

"Actually…" he followed on behind her, "I was wondering if there was anything for me." She stopped and audibly exhaled. He came around to her right side and watched her thumb slowly through the mail.

"I don't think your invitation to host the Jump City comedy awards is coming," her dry tone of voice was ideal for such sarcastic comments. Beast boy was about to think of a suitably witty reply when he spotted his letter. His hand darted in and retrieved it before Raven could make any remarks. She had noticed that it was the letter she had passed comment on earlier. "So… what is it?" Even Raven had to admit she was slightly curious.

"Just fan mail," he shrugged as he tucked the letter into the back pocket of his trousers, as if the occurrence was so regular it was almost a chore. Raven was not convinced.

"I thought you needed fans before you could get fan mail," she ridiculed. He turned up his nose as if to rise above her comment.

"Well she might not write me drippy poems," he took a few steps toward the lift and pressed the button to call it, "but she's really into my style," he boasted as he preened his hair in the metallic surface of the door.

"I didn't know they allowed asylum inmates to send letters," she said as she stepped forward to get in the lift. Beast boy followed her in with a slightly aggravated expression.

"Yeah well maybe you'd have more fans yourself if you weren't so cold all the time," he snapped. Sure, he should have the right to mock her remote attitude like she always did him and his outgoing ways. Maybe he had gone a little too far though. "I mean… umm…" His tone softened apologetically.

"Whatever," she shrugged him off. As usual it was hard to tell Raven's mood exactly, but he was pretty sure he had crossed the line. A change of tack was probably the best idea.

"So…" he restarted the conversation, "you wearing anything nice to this mayor's thing?" An exasperated sigh implied that was not a topic she wanted to cover. She must be bugged about something, he figured, discounting instantly the idea that the problem might be him. He hit the button for his floor and a few moments of uncomfortable silence followed. Only the sound of the mechanics whirring into action punctuated the journey.

"I don't know why everyone's so bothered about it," Raven finally spoke, her voice breaking through the low hum of the lift "it's just an excuse for the mayor to get himself associated with us to boost his own popularity," she complained. She was not a great fan of politicians. "You think it's just a coincidence that his term of office is almost up?" Beast boy shrugged. He did not have much of a view on the subject simply because he did not know that much about it.

"He seems nice enough to me." Beast boy said cheerily. Raven shook her head and decided this discussion was not going to make any progress. Besides, the fewer of the world's evils he knew the happier he would be and explaining it would almost certainly lead to a headache.

The familiar chime of the lift told them they had arrived. The doors slid silently open to show the familiar grey corridors. Beast boy gestured for Raven to exit first with his arm and a slight bow of the head. She looked at him a little confused, "this isn't my stop," she said, holding up the letters.

"Oh… well you just take those upstairs then…" He said, scratching the back of his neck and feeling a little silly.

Raven raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Oh right," he stepped out of the lift and raised his hand for a small wave. Raven nodded and reached for the panel. The doors slid shut and Beast boy proceeded to his room, a skip in his step as his thoughts turned to the letter in his pocket and the new suit he had bought for today's occasion, which he thought was going to look totally sharp.

He had already opened the letter by the time he came to his room. He went through, still engrossed, and sat on the edge of his unmade bed.

'_Dear Beast boy,_

_Thanks for the last letter! I started writing this one straight away but I didn't get to finish it for a little while because dad was making me do my school work so sorry about that. Still, here it is in all its glory, I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it.'_

"I'm sure I will," he said to nobody in particular, an almost involuntary smile creeping across his face.

'_Sorry to hear Raven is still being mean, but I think I am starting to understand her from what you have told me. I told you about my older sister Erica right? She's a total antisocial goth too, I think those guys would get along. At least you have Robin and Cyborg to play on the Gamestation with. Oh, by the way, do you know how to beat the scorpion boss on Hidden Assassin? I can't seem to figure out how to damage him in his second form. Then when you die you have to do that whole level again, it's so annoying. _

_Hmm what else to say… Oh! I'm going to be at that award ceremony on Saturday the 15th. I'll be one of the screaming fans outside. I think only press and stuff are allowed in. I don't have an invitation either. If you see me, come over and say hello! My friends would be so jealous…'_

Beast boy lowered the letter to his lap and looked over to the cupboard and weighed up putting on his new suit against finishing the letter. If Clara was going to be there, it might be precious extra time that could be better invested on his hair. "Hmm…" he contemplated while picking a little piece of tofu out of his back teeth with his index finger.

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"…and so we can now see the crowds starting to gather for the arrival shortly of Jump City's favourite quintet, the Teen Titans," the reporter gestured to a group of people behind him before turning his well practised smile on the camera. "This is Tom Maxwell. Back to you in the studio Susan."

"Thanks Tom, maybe they'll be able to 'rescue' the mayor's waning opinion poll figures…" The screen flicked off and Cyborg sat forward on the sofa, resting the remote on the table.

"Woo yeah!" he exclaimed jubilantly, almost dancing in his seat, "They all waiting on the Cyborg for the real action to begin," he cheered to an unphased Raven who was sat a little to his left, nursing a cup of tea. She shook her head disapprovingly before taking a tentative sip. "Aw come on Ray, cheer up."

"This _is_ me cheerful," she looked at him with a total lack of facial expression. He let out a small sigh of disappointment before turning to speak to Starfire who was floating behind the couch, putting the finishing touches to her hair.

"Lookin' good Star," he said, admiring her long pink dress. "Hey, isn't that the one you wore when Robin went on that date with K-…" she shot him a fiery glare which reminded him how much he did not want to go there, "err… that time," he coughed nervously.

"Hmm…" Starfire pondered, going back to concentrating on her appearance, "Is it not strange that the females must spend so much time selecting suitable articles of clothing for such events while the males are required only to wear this 'suit'?"

"Guys tend are better suited to other things … like eating," came Raven's dry voice in response.

Starfire thought about that for a second, "This does seem to be true, but I am also skilled at …"

"Hey," interrupted a mildly offended Cyborg, "there are lots of different suits to choose from. This one took me forty minutes of shopping to get," he said, using his hands to highlight his suit.

"Oh, I had not realised that it was…" started Starfire again.

"So twenty minutes there, twenty minutes back," Raven cut her short with another jab.

"Friends… let us not argue… for this is a joyous occ…" she attempted to reconcile her feuding comrades but was yet again broken off in mid sentence.

"At least I made the effort." Cyborg's voice rose and his posture became more hostile, "you're still wearing that same old tired combination. Nothing wrong with wanting to look nice." She stared back defiantly. Starfire looked at the other Titans hesitantly, wanting to mend the situation but not quite sure how.

"Just because you're dumb enough to get all worked up about some meaningless event…" she sniped.

"Hey!" called Robin from the kitchen area with a somewhat hurt tone.

"Well at least I get excited about _some _things." Cyborg replied in kind, raising his voice a little more.

"FRIENDS!" Starfire shrieked, expressing upset as much as anger and cutting through their argument like a hot knife through mustard. The others stopped their bickering and turned to her with trepidation on their faces. They knew that Starfire was probably the one of them that could be pushed furthest, but the one they would least want to deal with once she had been pushed. "Let us not fight over who wears which fashions," her voice was laced with concern. "We should be pleased that the people will be so happy to see us, let them not see us divided," she attempted to rouse but her scolding had left them looking at their feet uncomfortably.

"Sorry Star," Raven and Cyborg mumbled in unison, which was followed by an awkward silence. Raven drank a little more tea, Cyborg brushed down his suit and Starfire looked anxious, wondering if she'd been too harsh. Robin was the only one making any noise as he stacked some dried dishes in one of the cupboards.

Their attention was piqued again briefly by the familiar sound of the door opening. It was Beast boy. This time, though, his attire was more striking than usual, in everybody's opinion. He had donned a well cut light grey suit with a maroon shirt. He pointed his index fingers as if his hands were pistols and smiled broadly, "Azarath, Metrion, Beast boy!" he announced. The lack of any response caused his smile to fade into a look of mystification. The atmosphere was almost tangible in here. Glancing over the glum expressions of his team mates confirmed it. Probably just some silly argument, he figured. Fortunately he was in good spirits and knew exactly how to lighten the mood.

"Hey Cy," he sauntered down towards the other Titans. "Nice suit. Did you have to skin an eight foot penguin?" he said, grinning expectantly for some traditional banter. Cyborg did not rise to the verbal challenge, instead choosing to keep his gaze on the floor just in front of his feet. He mumbled something but it was not easily audible.

"…Okaaay then," Beast boy turned to Raven, realising his brand of personality might not be working on Cyborg, this time. "Raven…" he smirked, "surely you're not planning to go in _that_?" Dead silence again. Only an exasperated exhalation clued him in that she probably was not going to be any fun either.

"Whoa, tough crowd," he said after a few seconds to nobody in particular, fiddling with the top button of his shirt awkwardly. Robin placed his hand over his eyes and shook his head in despair of the situation. Somehow Beast boy had managed to demonstrate his ability to say completely the wrong things in an almost expert fashion.

"You are putting your legs in your mouth Beast boy," piped up Starfire, prompting a look of total bewilderment. "Err…" she stopped to think, guessing she had probably made an error there.

"Foot?" Robin suggested.

"Oh yes," Starfire hit one closed fist against the other open palm with a look that might have led one to believe she had just solved a great mystery. "You have the foot in the mouth Beast boy so it may be wise to stop with the joking for now," she advised.

"Hmm" Beast boy thought. If he had said something inappropriate it would explain their reactions. Maybe there had been some commotion here before he arrived shortly before, or maybe they were just jealous of his fan mail. "So… Starfire. Looking nice." She responded with a little twirl to show off her dress. He looked to contemplate something for a moment. "Hey…" something came to him, "isn't that the same dress you wore when…"

"Beast boy!" Robin shouted, cutting in just in time to save Beast boy from what would have been his worst faux pas of the day. Cyborg allowed himself a little smirk at the situation. "So…" he said, his attention drifting to Starfire, and whether or not she was going to go into ballistic mode.

"So…?" Beast boy prompted him, noticing his almost spaced out gaze.

"So are we all ready?" he looked around at the other Titans to confirm. It seemed so.

"I guess…" Beast boy shrugged. Cyborg stood up and stretched a little.

"T car's ready to go," he informed Robin with a business like tone.

"Okay then, let's go." Robin started towards the lift with Starfire and Beast boy in tow. Cyborg followed a little behind, stopping half way to turn to Raven who had not moved from her seat.

"Coming?" She put her cup down and got up.

"Titans, go," she quipped in her usual monotone.

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So there it is. What did you think? I hope you liked it. I had actually written this about six months ago and only now have I posted it. To re-read it was quite strange, having read other fics. I often criticised people for too easily leaning on Starfire's amusing turn of phrase, but I noticed that I kind of do it too. She's easy to write to a basic standard, but hard to write very well.

I wonder if you are thinking, "Hold on a minute. If he wrote the first chapter so long ago, is the second chapter ready already?" Well… there are two answers to this and both of them are 'no'. Also I am not quick at writing when I do write and I go through long phases where I am uninspired to write, or just busy with other stuff. I guess I will see how you guys respond before getting to work on more. I hope I can write more like this.


	2. Raven! Over here!

Hi there, it's me again. I know what you're thinking. Perhaps something like, "he made such a song and dance of how long it takes him to write fics, but he's back, barely a week later, with the second chapter. What's going on?" Well, to be honest to you, I had written most of the second chapter by the time I posted the first. I originally started work some months ago, as I think I mentioned somewhere. You are now wondering if I'm holding out on you with the third chapter… well, I will say I have written some of it, but don't expect it anytime soon. Anyway, let me now thank those kind few who reviewed my first chapter. I will name the five, to make them feel special. We have Mystyre, Tilly, Smirks of Apathy, BlueTitan and DasFury. Kind words from all, thanks a lot. Ready to read the next chapter yet? I thought so…

Oh yeah, and I don't own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work. If you want to use it some place for some reason, just credit me. It would be nice to get an email too. Listen to me getting ahead of myself, get to the reading!

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Chapter 02

Beast boy panted heavily as his tongue dangled loosely from his mouth. He loved the feeling of the wind blowing through his fur as he leaned out of a car window, even if that meant some people got a little showered with saliva in the process.

"You don't have to be the dog on every car journey you know BB," Cyborg glanced back for a second, the annoyance in his tone rising steadily as the seats received a generous serving of dog drool.

"At least he has a higher IQ this way," Raven grumbled as she wiped a little bit of slobber from her nose. She had drawn the short straw and was landed with sitting next to him on the journey.

"Ruff," yapped Beast boy with as much indignation as he could muster in this form. Raven did not dignify the bark with a response, thinking that a drawn out conversation with a dog might just be a new low on the intellectual scale. She settled instead for a disapproving look which appeared to call his sanity into question.

Beast boy caught Raven's expression and turned to face her, his ears flopping to the side of his head and his eyes opening wide to form the most innocent and cute expression he could. She tried to ignore it but the look was persistent. He wanted a reaction and she knew he would not give up until he got one.

"Fine…" started Raven finally, but was cut off straight away when an arm shot across her and started patting the dog's head playfully.

"He is much cuter this way do you not think Raven?" came Starfire's excited voice as she scratched the Beast boy behind his ears. Even if Raven could resist the 'cute look' that Beast boy exploited, Starfire usually could not.

"I suppose," she grudgingly admitted, but only because he did not talk half as much this way, she thought.

Beast boy heard something he liked and popped back into his usual shape. Starfire took her hand away and looked a little disappointed. "Hmm…" thought Beast boy out loud, savouring the moment to come, "if you agree with Star that I'm cuter as the dog, it must mean you think I'm at least a little cute as I am now." Raven took a moment to think. Even she had to admit, to herself at least, that he had her there. Even if it was not what she had meant. Robin turned around and looked back at her, also curious to hear her answer. She had to think fast.

"I did not know you thought Beast boy 'cute'" Starfire thought aloud, causing Beast boy to smirk uncontrollably toward Raven.

"No, that's not it. What I meant," she said a little more confidently, as a good response came to her, "was that anything is a step up from your normal look." Beast boy looked glum for a moment, a little stung from the comment, before resuming his cheeky smile and patting Raven on the shoulder.

"I know you love me really." Normally she would have turned her attentions out of a window at this point, but since she was not sitting next to one she just looked straight ahead, ignoring her immediate surroundings, Beast boy in particular.

"Are we almost at our location?" Starfire asked, breaking a small silence.

"A few minutes," informed Robin, keeping his eyes facing the front.

"That reminds me," started Cyborg, "where am I going to park?" He seemed to have already been thinking about it for several minutes.

"_That_ is the thing that's worrying you?" Robin asked incredulously.

"Well think about it. We're gonna be getting out at the front of city hall, walkin' down the red carpet and all that jazz, but are we just gonna be able to leave the car there?" he asked in a rhetorical manner. "No, we're not. So what happens to it?"

"Umm… it gets clamped?" Beast boy ventured an answer.

"Don't even joke about that BB." Cyborg's voice showed he was not in the joking mood. He almost never was when it came to his precious car.

"I'm sure there'll be a valet to park it," Robin's voice sounded distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere. He knew Cyborg cared about the car, but he was sure no harm would come to it on such a high profile occasion. He was more concerned with how the ceremony was going to play out since the schedule he had received was a little light on details. He did not want to mess up.

"No valet gettin' in here," grumbled Cyborg with a muted voice.

A few minutes of relatively quiet travel later, Starfire's expression lit up and she clapped her hands with glee as she got her first sight of the venue. The crowds were indeed gathering in numbers. Probably several hundred at least, guessed Robin as he assessed the situation.

A few of them took deep breaths as the car came to a stop to cheers and what seemed like hundreds of camera flashes. "Oh my," said Starfire excitedly, "they are very many indeed."

"Well…" exhaled Cyborg, turning off the engine and sitting back in his seat, "here we are." He turned his head to Robin to see what he was doing. "Are you gettin' out then?" he said, knowing the others would follow his lead. Robin nodded and opened his door, letting in the clamorous cries of the crowd. Taking their leads, Cyborg, Starfire and Beast boy opened their doors and stepped out. Raven took a deep breath before joining them.

They found themselves at one end of a spotless red carpet which lead from the road to the stone steps of city hall where the mayor was waiting with a small entourage. At either side were waist height metal barriers holding back the hordes, dotted intermittently with armed police. Many of the people held up signs and banners with various messages for the Titans. Some of them were even dressed as their heroes. Beast boy had already counted at least two fairly adequate Ravens.

"May I park your car sir?" a young man in a red waistcoat approached Cyborg. He looked him up and down a couple of times with suspicion, trying to decide whether this guy looked responsible enough to be trusted. On the other hand though, if anything did happen to it, it would be more than his job was worth so he was bound to be extra careful.

"Alright…" Cyborg decided reluctantly, "but be careful with her." The young man, whose expression had been entirely professional thus far, could barely conceal the look of excitement that was creeping across his face. Cyborg kept his eye on him very closely as he got in.

Beast boy had moved toward the crowd, making rather overstated actions and strutting around. It was a good chance for him to show off and be cheered for it. A couple of ladies with an 'I love Beast boy' banner at the edge of the barriers had attracted his attention. He leisurely made his way over, stopping to pose for various photo opportunities as he went. He was in his element. "Ladies…" he put on his most charming voice as he leant on the barrier just in front of them.

"Oh my god, it's you!" one of them said, sounding fairly delirious. He shot her a dashing smile.

"Yeah, it's me alright. Can I sign something for you?" His look dropped as they took out several Beast boy t-shirts, photos and a pad of paper. "Err…" he realised he may come to regret that offer.

Starfire was moving down the crowd on the right, shaking many hands on her way, also quite enjoying the affections of so many people. "Hello… yes it is good to meet you also… yes yes hello… greetings to you… pleased to meet you…" she greeted them all with the same happy affection as she would with any of her friends. "Yes, by all means I will sign your leg," she chirped to one of the less common requests.

"…and this one is for my sister. She's called Irene but everyone calls her 'Reeny'. You can sign it either." Beast boy took the fourth picture of himself and scribbled away an autograph for 'Reeny'. He was starting to get a serious case of writers' cramp. He was determined to please his adoring public, but this was starting to get silly.

Robin and Raven walked down the middle at a slow pace. Robin nodded and waved to a few fans while Raven tried to act as unimpressed as possible. "You know…" she attempted to speak over the din of the crowd, "five Titans and a few hundred innocent bystanders …" Robin nodded solemnly; he had been considering the risks of this situation for some time.

"Well, I'm ready…" he opened his jacket a little to reveal several of his usual tools, "you're ready…" she nodded, "and I _guess_ they're ready" he gestured to the others.

"Raven! Over here!" Came a piercing voice from their right. Raven glanced across to see a girl wearing a replica of her outfit, waving furiously for her attention. She turned back to continue her original path but another scream from the girl prompted Robin to take notice.

"You might as well go and say 'hello'," he suggested. "That girl has probably been here for hours just waiting for you."

"I suppose…" she grudgingly conceded after a moment of consideration. She took a deep breath to prepare herself and walked over to the fan, trying to look composed, hiding the fact that these circumstances were actually a little overwhelming.

"She's coming over!" screamed another person nearby and several people starting trying to push themselves to the front, causing a bit of a crush. It was not dangerous but Raven thought it could easily get that way.

She stopped a few steps short of the barrier, trying to figure out what exactly she was expected to do. Many people were shouting at her with various requests and greetings. Hands were reaching out toward her, beckoning desperately that she should go to them first.

After a second of taking it in, she stepped closer to her 'double'.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god!" squealed the girl, almost hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?" asked a slightly concerned Raven. The girl was not only at the centre of a tight mass of people, but she also seemed to be losing all composure.

"Oh my god she asked if I was okay," the girl's overly excited voice babbled to nobody.

"Yeah…" Raven spoke clearly, trying to avoid being drowned out by the rising calls of the immediate throng. "So… are you?" she repeated.

"Oh yes, I'm all the better for seeing y…"

"Say it!" a man to the girl's right shouted as he leaned forward.

"Yeah, come on!" came another voice from someone Raven could not see. She was not quite sure what was she was supposed to be saying but the crowd were pretty insistent she say _something_. Did she have a catch phrase? Nothing was coming to mind.

"Come on… please?" the girl in the costume prompted, noticing Raven's rather spaced out look.

Beast boy rubbed his sore wrist, nodding and smiling as he backed off from the autograph hungry mob. He must have signed at least twenty times on a variety of things. He could probably make a mint if he started charging for these, he thought. There was obviously a market…

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" chanted a small patch of crowd enthusiastically over on the other side which caused a curious Beast boy to turn his head. There stood Raven, along with a fairly mediocre doppelganger, looking like she did not quite know what to do with herself. Beast boy smirked as he listened to Raven try and explain why she did not want to repeat those words.

"Beast boy!" A voice seemed to cut through the crowd and hit him squarely in the ear.

"Clara!" he grinned uncontrollably as he caught sight of the girl he knew only from pictures waving at him from the crowd. He dashed over to where she was standing to greet her. "Err… hey", he said coyly, a little red creeping into his cheeks.

"Beast boy!" she repeated affectionately, leaning over the barrier to hug him. He was taken aback for a moment before slowly putting his arms around her. "I'm glad you came," she whispered.

"Well you know…" he spoke with the most official tone he could, pulling away from the hug, "we Titans have a duty to the public."

"Oh, by the way," a couple of people to either side of her coughed to announce their presence, "This is Jessica," she nodded to the girl to her left, "and this is Sarah." They both turned a bright red and waved nervously.

"Hi," Beast boy gave a short wave before returning his attentions to Clara.

"Hey, paws off mister," she reprimanded a man who was pushing behind her. Beast boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sorry, he was really bugging me," she explained, noticing his expression.

"Nothing to worry about, it looks like a nightmare in there," he scoped the immediate crowd with his eyes.

"Oh it's worth it," she smiled. "What are ya' doing after this?" she enquired with a hint of suggestion that she might prefer it if he was free.

"After this?" he rubbed his chin and looked to the sky, hoping somehow that might aid his memory. "Nope, nothing I don't think," he shrugged.

"Oh, well perhaps we could…"

"Come on BB," Cyborg stepped up and started guiding him along with his arm, "say 'bye bye' to the pretty girl."

"No wait," Beast boy struggled against Cyborg's attempts to divert him, "this is Clara."

"That's great BB, but I think we kept the mayor waiting long enough." Beast boy looked over to where the mayor had been standing before. Robin was now there, gesturing impatiently for the other Titans to join him.

"Come on, just give me one more second," he used his pleading eyes to try and persuade his friend.

"Sure, whatever man, but I'm going to get my shiny award," he patted Beast boy on the back and waved at Clara and her friends.

"Cyborg just waved at me…" Sarah whispered breathlessly as he left. Clara waved her hand in front of Sarah's face.

"Still with us?" she giggled.

"You know he waves all the time at home," Beast boy boasted jokingly. "So anyway, you were saying something about after this?"

"Oh yeah," she blushed slightly, "well I was just thinking … if you wanted, we could meet up somewhere."

"Sure," Beast boy glanced over at where he should be again, "erm… how about Express Pizza in around two hours?"

"The one across the street?" she asked, noticing that he was becoming distracted.

"Yeah… okay then I'll see you then," he confirmed, backing off for a few steps before turning toward city hall.

"At three then!" shouted Clara. He turned around and waved in response but she was left with the impression he had not heard.

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"So…" the mayor lifted the china cup he was holding to his lips for a drink, "are we all ready?" his voice was smooth and relaxed. His smile caused his face to crease with an impressive number of age earned wrinkles, or so Beast boy thought.

"I think so," Robin's tone was a little less relaxed than the mayor's, "but I'm not exactly sure what we'll be called on to do."

"Well," he dabbed his lips with a white handkerchief, "first there's the award ceremony. You will come on to the stage to receive your awards." Robin listened carefully.

"Will there be a crowd?" he asked, with an eye to the tactical situation.

"A number of people, yes," he put his tea cup in a matching saucer on the elaborately crafted wooden table between them. "Oh, but it was invite only," he reassured, seeing Robin's look of concern.

"Hmm…" Robin thought, leaning back into the leather couch.

"Sounds straight forward enough," Cyborg nodded to Robin.

"Yes, I do lots of this sort of thing, nothing to worry about," he pushed a plate across the table towards his guests. "Another biscuit?"

"No… so is there…" Robin started.

"Oh boy, is this ever sweet," Beast boy said happily as he scooped up several.

"So is there anything else we need to know?" he continued, over his loudly chewing colleague.

"Erm…" the mayor rubbed his greying moustache in thought, "well the press might want to ask you some questions, and of course there will be the TV cameras."

"TV? Sweet!" an excited Beast boy said with a mouth crammed with biscuits.

A knock at the door interrupted them. A sharp looking middle aged man in a black suit let himself in and nodded to the mayor. "Well then," the mayor said, straining slightly to get up, "looks like that's my cue." He straightened his jacket and nodded to the Titans. "Someone will be in for you shortly, so don't go anywhere," he joked.

"What a nice guy," Beast boy grinned as the door shut, spying an unclaimed chocolate biscuit and snatching it.

Raven took a moment to look around the lavishly decorated room. It certainly seemed like the tax payers' money was spent fairly freely, she thought, eyeing one particular oil painting.

"Don't you think so Rae?" Beast boy looked to her with anticipation, hoping she may think well of him now she'd had a chance to meet him.

"I think he does his job well," she replied flatly. The mayor wanted them for something so he was nice. She did not think it was not much of an indication of whether or not he really was a nice person.

Beast boy smiled, deciding to take what Raven said as an agreement with his statement.

"Yes, indeed, he is very pleasant. Much like this snack," Starfire said, looking closely at the biscuit she was in the process of devouring.

"Seems okay to me," Cyborg shrugged in Raven's direction. Robin drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa, showing his impatience which was further fuelled by anxiety. He hated uncertain situations and the mayor had failed to convince him this was all just routine.

"I'd almost rather be fighting criminals," he finally spoke up.

"I definitely would," commented Raven.

"At least I know where I stand then," he said, looking blankly at the opposite wall.

"Man you should relax. I doubt anything bad is gonna happen. All we have to do is walk on stage, get our awards and then go," Cyborg reasoned.

"It's just... I mean I don't think anything will happen… but being on stage and asked questions…" He was aware he could not specifically say what was bothering him because he did not quite know. Maybe it was just that their time could be far better spent elsewhere. Maybe it was the fact that they may be being used in a game of political point scoring. The mayor did want to look popular at the moment. It all just made him feel uneasy and unsure of exactly what to do.

"It will be nice to be honoured so," Starfire tried to put Robin at ease.

"Yeah man, just think of it as good PR," Cyborg patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.

"For who?" questioned Raven with a cynical tone. Robin nodded soberly to her. He had to admit she made a fair point. As he would have expected, she had not been as caught up in the excitement as the others and was able to look at the possible motivations behind this slightly unusual event. Even an objective viewer would have to admit the timing of this was a little convenient.

"I guess there's a little in it for each," Robin decided to put the thought out of his mind for the moment. They might be being used but they would lose face if they were to leave now so they might as well just get on with it.

Beast boy got up and started pacing around the room. "How long are they gonna keep us waiting?" he moaned.

"Calm down BB," Cyborg said calmly, "they'll come and get us when it's time." Beast boy stopped pacing and stepped over to a mirror where he started checking his teeth for remnants of biscuit.

A gentle knocking caused them to turn to the door. "Err… come in," Robin said, slightly unsure why the person would need to knock.

"If you'll follow me," a well mannered and smartly dressed man invited them with a slight bow.

"He's not the same one as before," Beast boy whispered to Raven as they moved toward the exit.

"I think you should consider a name change to 'Captain of the Obvious'" Raven replied, also with a low volume.

The man led on and the Titans followed through several of the well decorated corridors of city hall which seemed to be fairly crowded; mostly with official looking people. Beast boy found the pace rather brisk for his liking but the others seemed to be managing.

"So…" Beast boy caught up to Raven who was walking a little ahead of him, "you don't think it's suspicious?"

"You mean the man being different?" Beast boy looked toward the man to try and see whether he was out of earshot.

"Yeah."

"No," she dismissed his idea, putting his excited mood down to too much sugar from those biscuits.

The man leading them finally stopped, turning to a door marked 'backstage' and opening it. He gestured for them to enter. "The mayor will give you your cue," he said as they filed past.

As they entered, they found that directly ahead of them was the mayor on a wooden stage, addressing what they assumed was the audience. A large red curtain to their left obscured their presence from the crowd.

"What order should we go on in?" Cyborg whispered to Robin as he checked his tie was on straight.

"Hmm… I guess I should go first. Other than that I don't suppose it matters," he whispered back, touching up his hair. Starfire took it upon herself to correct Beast boy's hair which had somehow come out of place. Raven busied her mind with whether or not she should have her hood up.

"And now without further ado, I present those great friends of the city as well as personal friends of my own, the Teen Titans," the mayor announced proudly, causing an eruption of applause.

"I guess that's our cue," said Cyborg taking a deep breath. Robin nodded to the others before making his way on stage to heightened applause as well as the flashes of what must have been fifty cameras. He waved to the crowd and gave them a nervous smile. As he approached the mayor, he reached out his hand and shook it firmly.

"Good to see you," the mayor nodded eagerly.

Robin stood to one side, allowing the other Titans to follow suit.

Raven came on stage last, watching the others getting excited by yet more crowd adoration. The large wooden floor and sizeable audience were quite daunting for her, although she could barely see the audience due to a couple of blinding lights that shone on them from above. She was determined not to act as if it bothered her, so she simply attempted to ignore the crowd as best she could as she went on. She did shake the mayor's hand, although her face did not reflect the smile the politician chose to display. She stood back with the other Titans as the mayor addressed the audience again.

"Well there they are," he waved an arm in their direction as the applause died down, "the heroes of this city. This reminds me of a tale I heard that might fit this situation. Everyone knows Jack, my campaign manager right? Well, he used to work at…" Beast boy slouched where he stood, starting to realise this might go on for a while. He glanced at the others, seeing if he could get any of their attention without anyone noticing. When Raven glanced his way, he nodded and smiled at her, but she just responded with a look that seemed to say 'now is not the time'. He looked at his feet and started to think about Clara. He thought it quite cool how she was almost exactly as he'd imagined her, and not just how she looked because obviously he had pictures, but it was more like the way she spoke and acted. If he got out of here within two hours he would be able to meet up with her for what would hopefully be a date, but at the rate the mayor was blabbering on, that might not happen and that would definitely not be good. He would certainly share Raven's opinion of the mayor then. Hey, where were those TV cameras? He thought as he looked around for the nearest one.

"…and we all know what happened next," the mayor paused for a laugh from the audience. "But back to our guests. It's important for the city, I believe, to worry about the younger generation. These fine young people are excellent examples, but if I get re-elected I hope my educational reforms and family tax benefits can help more young people fulfil their potential…" There it was, Raven thought. The paper thin veil that this entire farce was just tore away and now the mayor was in to 'blatant political canvassing' territory. Still, at least that confirmed her suspicions, meaning she was right, which was always good. So now that it was clear, she thought, what did it mean? They had always allied themselves with 'the city', but that typically just meant protecting the citizens and helping the police. This new direction would probably be something that would just get in the way of their purpose and be a serious headache later. She guessed she would have to discuss this one with Robin at some point. Although, was there anything really wrong with it? Perhaps this would be something to think about at a later time, she pondered as she suddenly realised how warm it had become. Those lights really were powerful.

"…but I've talked long enough," the mayor smiled. Beast boy agreed with a bored looking nod. "So I shall get to the purpose of this meeting which is, of course, honouring the Teen Titans. We have created an award especially for them, which we call the 'Defenders of the city' award. It recognises all their hard work and dedication in service of Jump City." Finally, Beast boy thought, he might be able to get out of here.

"Firstly then, to Robin, the illustrious leader," he smiled, turning to Robin. He took a few steps forward to the podium and shook the mayor's hand once more to a ripple of applause. The mayor presented him with a small and rather inexpensive looking medal. That was it? He looked questioningly at it for a moment before smiling and thanking the mayor. Cyborg caught Robin's look of slight disbelief and allowed himself a smirk.

"Next, the first lady of crime fighting in Jump City, Starfire," the crowd applauded again, with more vigour than for Robin. She stepped forward, unable to keep the giddy smile from her face. "Good thing I'm a leftie on immigration or she might never have been with us," the mayor joked to an appreciative audience, although Starfire looked confused. They certainly seemed to be in the palm of his hand, Robin thought. Still, he did recall it was an 'invite only' occasion, so these would be mostly friends and supporters.

"Your happy wishes are gratefully received," Starfire said cheerfully, bowing to the audience. They, like most people, seemed to love her most out of the Titans. Possibly it was her innocent demeanour and naivety, but very few people seemed to be able to dislike her. Beast boy had often thought she would do well as some kind of celebrity, like a pop star, if she were not so busy with all the crime fighting. Obviously not as cool a celebrity as him though.

After handing out the final award to Raven, which had annoyed her slightly as she thought she would come before Beast boy in the order, the mayor handed over the floor to the Titans. "Now I'll throw open the floor to some questions, if there are any," he said, stepping to one side. Robin approached the podium and cleared his throat.

"I didn't think we were gonna get grilled," Cyborg whispered to Raven.

"Jack Evans, Jump City Gazette," a voice emerged from several shouts. "Robin, are you aware that the 'Teen Titans' are currently allotted 2.8 of the city's law enforcement budget?"

"Erm…," Robin thought for a moment. He had expected the questions to be a little gentler than this. "Well there are quite a few costs for us. I think we spend the money wisely though and I would say we're worth it."

"Michael Jones, Daily Times," came another straight away, "how do you respond to claims that, as a result of the so called Teen Titans, our police forces are now less experienced at, and therefore less capable of dealing with, larger crimes?"

"Hmm…" Robin had to think again. The reporter raised a good point. If they dealt with all the big crimes, the police would have no idea how to tackle them if they suddenly disappeared or were unable to help. "Well… we only try and use our abilities to the benefit of the people. In my experience, the police tend to tell us when they want help, rather than us taking it upon ourselves to do their job."

"You mean fighting crime?" the reported provoked. Cyborg stepped forward for a reply, looking a little annoyed.

"Hey, we fight crime wherever we see it. There's plenty enough crime in this city to keep us _and_ the police busy." Raven put one hand over her eyes to try and shield herself from this disaster. That was not a wise reply and she was pretty sure it would be coming back to bite them before too long. Were they going to tarnish all their good work with one bad public relations exercise?

The reporter was quiet as he scribbled something onto a pad of paper. Robin glanced around to see if anyone else cared to make things worse. "John Mitchell, Channel Six," of course there was. "Since you're here, can we assume that the Teen Titans are lending their support for the current mayor in the upcoming election?" Cyborg and Robin looked at each other as if to say 'you take this one'. Fortunately for Cyborg, Robin caved first.

"Well of course we have been able to work very well with this mayor, but we'd rather try and remain outside of politics if possible," he exhaled with relief as he finished, quite satisfied with his answer. He knew, of course, remaining entirely outside of politics was pretty much impossible, particularly for a group as well known as them, but at least he was saved from taking a side for the moment.

"Raven," a female voice from the audience caused her to take notice. "So you chose not to dress for the occasion?" There were a few laughs from various people. Beast boy smirked in her direction but she ignored him. She stepped forward to take the floor, considering a suitable stinging comment.

"Which political publication am I addressing?" she said with typical deadpan style, causing a brief titter from a few.

"Teen Lifestyle, we're not political, just interested in you as people," she replied, her voice not containing any hint that she was offended. Probably not quite getting the implication, Raven thought. Still, at least this took away from the inquisition they had before.

"It said 'black tie optional'," she quipped. Robin was quite surprised at how well Raven could handle the crowd when she needed to. They even laughed at her jokes, not that she would ever admit to making any. Still, she did tend to be the 'will not' rather than the 'can not' type.

"Well then," the mayor stepped back to take the floor, "I think that's enough for today. The Teen Titans, ladies and gentlemen." They took a small bow and took their exit the same way they had come on to a grateful round of applause which managed to drown out calls of yet more questions.

"Phew," Cyborg let out a deep breath as they gathered backstage. "I don't think this was worth the trouble," he squinted as he examined his award.

"I never doubted that," said Raven. She wondered for a moment if the mayor had known that they were going to be quizzed like that. But then why would he discredit them when he seemed to be trying to get them on his side? Also he had stepped in to stop it at a sensible time.

"It wasn't so bad I thought," said Beast boy cheerily, interrupting Raven's thought process. He was in a good mood since there was still plenty of time left before his scheduled meeting with Clara.

"I am not so sure of that Beast boy," said Starfire. "I fear the lady from the magazine examining the life styles of teens may not have been satisfied with Raven's answer."

"Yeah Raven, people need to know these things," Beast boy taunted in a mocking fashion.

"If they're interested in _me_ for a magazine about lifestyle, it must be a very slow news day."

"Well, like it or not, people look up to you," Robin smiled.

"Anyway, are we just going to stand around here all day?" Raven avoided the praise, a skill she was now well experienced at.

"Good idea," agreed Beast boy.

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Well, there it is, the second chapter. What did you think? I know it's not really as funny as the first chapter. Well, I think so anyway. I am trying to go for a story here, and I think it shows. When will we see the next? Well… let's just say that a week is really not the average sort of time for a chapter. Also I liked the kind reviews, so anything you want to say, just say it. If it's criticism… well, of course I will accept that everyone has a slightly different view, but at least have tact. Thanks for reading. Oh, and I dislike this fanfiction text editor. I mean really.


	3. We, well, we fight crime

Welcome back to my little fan fiction. This is the part at the beginning of a chapter where the author has the luxury of talking utter rubbish for a small time. Oh, I would like to thank my reviewers for their continued support, particularly GDeacur. No slight on the others, but if you see his reviews, they really are top notch. He also writes, and rather well at that.

This section would not be the same unless I made a comment about how slowly I write sometimes. Actually, I just wrote a rather large burst. I got up at midnight (for various reasons) and the peace and quiet allowed me a few hours of writing. Okay, I did not manage ten thousand words, like some people can write in that time, but I turned over a good few hundred.

Okay, so, you want to get on with the reading. Let's just say first that I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Oh, one more thing. This site does not tell us when each chapter was posted, only when the story started and when the latest update was posted. If I remember, I will note in future chapters when I posted. The date for this one is 13/08/2006 (UK dating system (dd/mm/yyyy)).

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Chapter 03

"So then when I came on, I'm sure the clapping got louder," Beast boy paused to stuff another slice of tofu pizza into his mouth.

"Mmhmm," a fascinated Clara sat opposite, with her own pizza. Beast boy had recommended she have her own since he would probably eat way more than his half of a shared one. Plus she wanted pepperoni.

"Yeah… and then he went on for a while,"

"The mayor?"

"Yeah. I don't really remember what about, some political stuff I think," he scratched his head for a moment before enjoying another slice of pizza. She smiled as she watched him. He was pretty cute, she mused as she picked at a slice of pepperoni. "Not hungry?" he said, noticing her lack of face stuffing.

"Well, I didn't really come here for the food…" she said, looking down at her food and blushing a little.

"Then… oh," he realised, smiling sheepishly, not knowing quite what to say to that.

"So.. umm," she broke the momentary silence, "so how did the others handle it?"

"I think they were okay with it," he thought back to the event.

"Even Raven?" she smiled cheekily, not believing for a moment that Raven would have been fine with that one.

"Well, okay," he returned a similar expression, "maybe _she_ wasn't as okay with it as the rest of us, but that's just Raven for you. Mind you," he chewed thoughtfully, "she did get a couple of laughs from the audience at one point."

"She did?" Clara looked quite surprised.

"Oh yeah, there was this bit where we were being asked all these questions and there was this one woman from some teenage lifestyle magazine…"

"I can just imagine," Clara laughed.

"Yeah, she started asking Raven about her clothes and why she didn't get dressed up."

"No way," she continued her look of amused disbelief.

"I know. I thought she was gonna storm out or something," he took another slice, "but she just came back with some good comebacks."

"What did she say?"

"Oh, she was like 'the black tie was optional'," he attempted to do a Raven like voice.

"Haha, I can just imagine," she laughed again, "and that's not a bad impression." Beast boy looked smug.

"I do a mean Cyborg too, but don't tell him that," he grinned.

"You mean you'll introduce me to the others?" she sounded very excited by that offer. Or at least, that is how she had interpreted it.

"I guess if you came to my place you might meet them," he hinted. It would be cool though, he thought, if she did come and meet the others. It would make things seem a little more official.

"You would let me come and see the tower?" she was almost giddy by this point. Beast boy smiled smoothly, he held all the trump cards and he knew it.

"Well I don't know…" he feigned a serious voice, "I mean it's not just my decision. There's Robin and Cyborg…" her doubtful face showed that she had seen what he was doing.

"Well if it's so inconvenient I guess I won't be able to go," the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips showed her plan. Fortunately for her, Beast boy was more worried about what she had said than her expression.

"No no, I'm sure it will be okay," he flapped, "I mean I can bring people back if I like…" he spotted the growing smirk on Clara's face and gave her the 'alright, you got me' look. She had played him at his game and won, he had to give her credit for that. "Uh oh, I'm out," he said, looking at his empty plate. He looked over to hers and saw she had only eaten a couple of slices.

"Want some?" she offered.

"Nah, I don't eat meat." He would not say 'no' to more pizza though.

"I could take that off if you want." He looked at the pizza again. Pizza was good. Pepperoni was bad. Food was definitely on the brain.

"I guess that would be okay," he slid his plate across the table.

"So…" she said, her thoughts clearly on extracting the pepperoni from a slice as carefully as she could, "you can change into any animal?"

"Pretty much. Why, do you have a request?"

"Oh… no," she sounded almost offended that he would offer, "I don't want you to have to perform or anything, things are just nice as they are." She slid his plate back to him with a pepperoni free slice adorning it. He was happy to hear her say that. Not only because it meant she liked the current 'date', but also that he could feel relaxed knowing she was not just interesting in him for his novel abilities. He showed his appreciation with a heart felt smile as he took the plate.

"Thanks," he said with the most genuine tone he knew.

"Don't get all like that, it's only a slice of pizza," she joked in an attempt to relieve the tension that seemed to have built suddenly. They chewed on their respective pizzas for a thoughtful moment.

"Hmm…" Clara finally said, looking at her watch. "Dad might be wondering where I've got to."

"You didn't tell him you were meeting me?"

"Oh, no, I did. I just told him I'd probably have been back by now."

"So you're leaving?" he sounded disappointed.

"Well… you can walk me home if you'd like," she smiled and he smiled right back. He could live with that.

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"Pretty nippy huh," Clara said, watching her breath as it drifted up in front of her face.

"You can say that again," Beast boy said through chattering teeth. "Isn't it supposed to be warmer than this at this time of year?"

"I think it's a cold front or something, my dad said." She continued to lead the way through this particularly affluent area of Jump City.

"Nice area," remarked Beast boy as he watched the houses they passed. They ranged from impressive to very impressive. This must be the place where millionaires lived. "You guys must be rich."

"Dad is a businessman in the city. I guess he does pretty well," she said in a plain tone. This must all seem pretty everyday to her, he thought.

They continued on for a while, talking about nothing in particular. Beast boy was distracted by the nice houses and Clara seemed to be more concerned with getting home on time.

"Aah, here we are," she relaxed a little as they finally arrived. The large metal gates that greeted them were a little intimidating, Beast boy thought. Maybe her dad was really some kind of crime boss with this kind of set up. 'Business man' could have meant anything. Like mafia… or anything. Maybe it was just his vivid imagination. Still, better to ask to be sure.

"What…err," he paused to clear his throat, "what kind of business is it your dad involved in?"

She looked up from a number panel next to the gate, "Oh… removals."

"Removals?" he repeated uneasily. That did not do much to put his mind at ease. Removals could easily mean something sinister, depending on what … or who was being removed.

"Yeah," she confirmed, "now… three… two… five…" she said under her breath, her attention back on the panel. There was a click and the gates opened inwards slowly, whirring as they went. "Come on," she said, leading the way inside. Her feet caused a crunching sound as they disturbed the gravel on the drive way.

"Sure," he followed her lead. "Wow, nice place," he exclaimed, looking to the house. In truth it was probably not that much nicer than the other properties on the street, but he was actually going to get to go inside this one.

"Thanks."

"Hey, is that a security camera?" he peered at a small bush. Something metallic seemed to be reflecting the light.

"Oh yeah, they're all over the place," she smiled. "Don't worry, dad's just paranoid. He must think he has lots of enemies or something," she tapped her temple with her finger as if to say her dad was a little crazy.

"Lots of enemies?" he almost squeaked. Definitely mafia. "You know…" he started, not quite sure how to finish.

"I know what?" she probed.

"We… well… we fight crime," he started to fidget with his hands.

"You know you're acting very strangely," she stopped and put her hand to his forehead playfully. Before he could get to the point, the large wooden door swung open. There stood a short, portly gentleman with slicked back black hair. His dress was fairly informal and he was sipping on a glass of red wine. A slightly creepy looking guy, Beast boy thought. Slightly mafia looking guy, he reminded himself with a jolt.

"I was starting to wonder where you'd got to," he said, reaching out to hug her. His voice was smooth but a little gruff around the edges. Like a scotch on the rocks, Beast boy thought, if he knew what that tasted like.

"Yeah yeah, I was safe," she hugged him briefly before turning to introduce her date. "This is…"

"Beast boy," he finished. "Of course. How do you do?" he extended his arm to take Beast boy's hand and shook it firmly. "Good handshake," he smiled broadly. "We're going to get on well I think."

"I'm good thanks," he replied as his hand was shaken considerably more than it shook.

"Snappy dresser too," he nodded with approval. "Anyway, come in." He stepped aside to let them pass.

"Actually I'm not sure if I should… " he scrambled for an excuse not to go inside, "I mean because… err…" but none came.

"Come on BB, just for five minutes," Clara's voice did sound like she genuinely wanted him to go in. Maybe he could for a few minutes at least. Surely not much could happen in that time.

"I guess it would be okay," his smile broke through as he was won over. Even if this guy was some gangster type, he would surely be okay for a little while. It was when they started offering favours that can not easily be refused and then asking for things in return. That was when it got dangerous. Beast boy knew this because he had seen many movies about the mob and that made him an expert.

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"So," Clara's father settled into a red leather chair, causing it to creak under his generous weight, "oh, sit down please," he gestured for Beast boy to take the seat opposite to his.

"Thanks…" Beast boy skirted gingerly over to the chair, making sure not to touch anything valuable looking. There were enough antiques around to almost guarantee he would break something.

"Are you going to join us?" he called out of a nearby door.

"In a minute, just gonna put my coat upstairs," a muffled Clara replied.

"Just us then," he made himself comfortable, setting his glass down on a small wooden table to his side.

"Yeah…" Beast boy looked at his feet for a moment. Then he looked up at the ceiling, finally deciding that his feet were the best option. Suddenly the word 'uncomfortable' seemed rather insufficient. He blew out some air and drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair.

"So…" Clara's father sensed the silence was getting a little too long, "I saw you on the news today, at city hall."

"Yeah. Clara was there too."

"Yes, she was indeed. Waited three hours to see the Teen Titans."

"Really?" he was a little shocked but had to allow himself a wry smile. She had waited to see them, well, him, for three hours. She had not mentioned that before.

"Oh yes, big fan, big fan," he nodded, "as am I."

"Oh really…" He made himself more comfortable in his chair and wore a smug look. He had to admit he was starting to feel a little more comfortable, and knowing that Clara's father was a fan almost gave him an upper hand. Of course, he could still be Jump City's biggest crime boss, but he was a fan.

"Tell me," he leaned forward, "I always wondered. What does 'Azarath Metrion Zinthos' actually mean?" Beast boy thought for a moment. Azarath… was that the place Raven was from? Or was it…

"I think it's just…" he started.

"Having a good time?" Clara announced herself as she strode in, perching herself on the arm of her dad's chair. She and Beast boy exchanged a shy smile.

"Yes. Beast boy was just telling me what Raven's chant means."

"Oh right," Beast boy returned his attention to the conversation, "well…"

"It doesn't mean _nothing_ does it?" Clara interrupted with an incredulous tone.

"Actually…"

"That would be a downer for all those people who go around using it all the time like they know what it means," she smirked excitedly.

"Clara," her dad tapped her knee with his hand, "let him finish."

"Oh right, sorry," she calmed down and put on a look of almost comic over interest that caused Beast boy to grin.

"No problem. Actually, I don't really know," he shrugged. "I guess you'd have to ask her."

"Hmm…" Clara's father sat back in his chair looking slightly disappointed. He took a drink and seemed to think for a moment.

"So… umm," Clara tried to remember what she and Beast boy had already talked about, "didn't dad offer you a drink?"

"Oh, dear me," her father interrupted, standing up; "You'll have to excuse me. Where are my manners? What will you have?"

"A coke would be good."

"I'll be right back," he said disappearing off into the hallway.

"I'll take one too," Clara shouted after him. "So…" she flopped down into the seat.

"So… nice place," Beast boy took a moment to take in the room properly.

"It's alright," she stretched her arms out and yawned. "What did you guys talk about?"

"Nothing really. I never knew you waited for three hours just to see me," he teased.

"Hey," she sat forward, "did he tell you that?" Beast boy really liked the fact that she could be so feisty.

"Oh, I have my sources…" he said in a deliberately cryptic fashion.

"So he did."

"Well….yeah." She giggled and shook her head.

"Well, okay, I did," she admitted, "but you have to get there early for these things if you want a decent place. People push and shove… it can be pretty cut throat in there."

"Yeah, you really told that guy," he said, remembering her little altercation.

"Yeah… well…" she spoke a little sheepishly, as if she had been scolded, "he was really pushing."

"Don't worry about it," his warm smile backed up his statement.

"I still can't believe you're actually here, in my house," her excitement came back in full force as she started to really appreciate the situation. "It doesn't quite seem real."

"I know what you mean," he nodded knowingly. Well what he meant was that he could imagine, since he could not recall the last time his idol came round to his house for a drink.

"Here we go then," Clara's father came in carrying a round tray laden with two glasses of cola.

"Dad, why did you tell him about me waiting for three hours?" she interrogated her unwitting dad.

"Shouldn't I have?" he handed a glass to Beast boy.

"Thanks."

"Well it makes me look pretty desperate," she gave a harsh glare as she took her glass.

"Sorry. Now can I get my seat back?" She folder her arms and was not going to be moved. "Alright then," he sighed and sat precariously on the arm. "So Beast boy, what did you think of the mayor?"

"He seemed okay. I guess he talked quite a lot."

"I know what that's like," Clara aimed that jab in her father's direction.

"I don't think Raven liked him though."

"Oh? Why's that?" he leaned forward on the arm. Clara gave a worried look as if she thought it would break. Beast boy had to move his hand over his mouth to try and conceal his mirth.

"I think she thought he was … like… using us to look popular or something."

"Really… interesting," he sat back and scratched his chin.

"Dad, seriously, you're going to break the chair in a minute," Clara warned as she felt the chair starting to creak.

"Well then, you're going to have to give me the chair," he bargained. She grumbled to herself, but she had caved.

"Fine, take it," she stood up and moved aside grudgingly.

"Thank you very much my dear," he sat down with a complacent expression on his face.

"So _anyway_," she ignored her dad and turned back to Beast boy, "you'll have to excuse my dad, he's into all this politics stuff. I find it pretty boring myself."

"Well it does affect us all you know," her father pointed out.

"Yeah, I've heard this one before," she faked a yawn.

"Well it does."

"So…" she blew out some air, "didn't you have that thing to do?"

"No, I don't think so…" he thought for a minute then shook his head. "Nope, all done."

"No…" she gestured at the door with her head, "that _other_ thing." Her dad looked completely lost. Beast boy had picked up on the 'hint' long ago. "Just leave already!"

"Oh right!" her dad suddenly clicked, "_that_ thing." Clara shook her head almost disbelievingly. "I'd better go and do it hadn't I," he said standing up. "Very important. Anyway, pleasure to meet you Beast boy. Hope to see you again."

"Me too. I mean, hope to see you again too," he stood up and received another good shaking of the hand.

"'night then," he said as he left. Clara watched him until he was out of sight.

"Man, talk about can't take a hint," she said, relaxing down onto the chair. Beast boy took another sip of his drink and relaxed a bit more also.

"So where do you keep the Gamestation?"

"The living room. It's over there," she waved a finger toward of one of the walls. "Why?" she sat up, "wanna play?"

"I'm game if you are," he challenged.

"Oh, it's on."

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"Oh…oh…. OH…." Beast boy shouted, leaning right up close to the television screen, "it's looking good for the boy who is a beast and yet also a boy."

"Hey, out of the way," Clara elbowed him to one side.

"You don't have to see to lose," he taunted. "Victory is in sight now; it's just a matter of time."

"We'll see about that," she said with renewed determination. It was just starting to sink in that this was _the_ Beast boy she was playing against. She still got star struck every once in a while though, when her mind clicked on to just who it was she had in her house.

"The undefeated Beast boy is headed for another amazing win," he smirked in her direction before turning back to the game.

"Not if I can help it," she kept her eyes glued to the screen. She knew she could win this if he made just one mistake. "Oh my god, Erica!" she raised her voice in surprise.

"Huh?" Beast boy look around to see what was going on. "Hey!" he complained, realising he had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book. He might be more annoyed, but he probably already used that one on Cyborg several times. Today.

"All's fair in love and war," she said, stealing the lead.

"That's cheating!" he moaned. All that time in the lead just to slip up now.

"And that's how it's done," she tossed down the pad in front of her and took a bow.

"One more game," he demanded. "Come on! I'm in the zone!"

"You can't be that far in the zone if you're losing. Besides, it's getting pretty late."

"It is?" he took a look at his watch. It really was. "It really is," he proclaimed truthfully as he stood up and brushed off the back of his trousers.

"Yup," she got up and stretched her arms out. "They'll be wondering where you got to."

"Nah," he said in a cool fashion, "I can go back anytime I want. I don't even have a bedtime you know."

"Right," she laughed, "well neither do I, but I have to get my beauty sleep."

"No way," he raised his voice almost defensively, "I mean… um… I don't think you need it."

"Well…" she thought for a moment, "I am going to need _some _sleep." Beast boy did not really want to leave. After all, this was not abnormally late by his standards, but the hints were being given. He should go.

"Hmm… well…" he thought out loud for a moment, "maybe I could catch Cyborg if I head back now."

"He stays up this late too?" she enquired as she led the way back to the entrance.

"He will be if I pull the plug out," Beast boy grinned mischievously. Clara smiled and shook her head with mock disapproval.

"I didn't know you had such a mean streak to you," she joked.

"This isn't mean, this is justified revenge," Beast boy explained, like he really meant business, "last week he caught me sneaking around his room, and…"

"Sneaking around his room…?" she shot him a questioning look.

"It's a long story," he defended, switching to as innocent a tone as possible, "but he definitely started it."

"Alright, I'll believe you," she said as she reached to unlock the front door. Beast boy beamed at her, very content with his mastery of the art of persuasion. "Millions wouldn't."

"Hmph!" he lifted his nose in what he imagined was a good likeness of one of Raven's many annoyed looks.

"Anyway," she smiled as she opened the door, "it's been really cool today."

"Yeah," he said, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air, "it really has."

"We could…" her eyes shifted around in a coy fashion, "do this again… sometime. I mean, if you wanted to that is."

"Yeah… that would be… neat," he coughed nervously and tried to avoid eye contact. This was definitely one of 'those' moments. "Just call me. Anytime is good."

"I will. Be careful on the way home."

"Don't worry about me," Beast boy strutted outside, "besides, if I'm in trouble I know who to call," he grinned.

"Erm… you mean… yourself?" Her look of concern for his sanity hid a quickly emerging smirk.

"Umm… yeah."

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"So then after the pizza, we went to her place. It was like… this huge place, so I figure she's pretty rich. Well, her dad is at least. He's a crime lord mafia boss." Cyborg spat his juice half way across the room.

"Say what!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know," he confirmed, mirroring Cyborg's incredulous expression, "crazy huh?"

"Yeah, it really is…" Cyborg wore a sceptical look. "What makes you think that?"

"Well… when we got there, there were these huge metal gates. I mean why would anyone need that sort of protection, especially on a street like that?"

"Well that doesn't necessarily mean…" Cyborg started, wiping his mouth with a convenient blue cloth.

"Well there were other things too," Beast boy cut ahead of the doubtful comment he knew was coming, "like security cameras everywhere, even in the bushes!"

"In the bushes too huh" Cyborg feigned a tone of interest while he turned his concentration to mopping up the renegade juice on the table.

"Uh huh, and then, when I asked what he did, she said he was into removals," he counted off his points on his fingers before looking at Cyborg anxiously. "I mean _removals_."

"Like… people moving house and that sorta thing?" He tried to sound like he was posing a genuine question, knowing that his acting oblivious would wind Beast boy up further. He knew him too well.

"Like ME!" he panicked, "I mean it's like in the movies. First they offer you favours and presents that you can't turn down, and then before you know it, they own you. And I don't want to be owned!"

"Well did he offer you anything?"

"A coke," he squeaked.

"Oh man…" Cyborg shook his head solemnly, "you're in deep." He patted his wide eyed counterpart on the shoulder and stretched as he got to his feet. "Before they come to get you though, help me clean these plates away," he started stacking up the dishes, which were already looking less than sanitary. "And pass me that cloth."

"Dude," Beast boy gave the juice soaked cloth a frosty look, "when I'm at the bottom of the sea wearing a concrete tail warmer, you'll be sorry."

"Maybe Starfire'll get you one of those for Christmas if you leave the room like this." Cyborg loaded the plates into the sink and started the water running.

"Aww… but it's late," Beast boy whined, poking the cloth with suspicion. It was damp and sticky, and his plan was to have as little to do with it as possible.

"The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get finished." Beast boy grumbled to himself. He had noticed that Cyborg had taken the smaller plates, leaving him with a large bowl of half eaten tofu and a soggy horrible cloth. Surely there was an easier way.

"Aha!" he declared, announcing the formation of a legendary Beast boy idea to the world. If he could get the cloth into the bowl using the fork, he could transport it over to the sink without having to touch it.

"Grmph…" he screwed up his face in concentration as he tried to position the fork under the cloth such that it would not fall off when he lifted it. It proved more difficult than he had thought, but somehow he managed it. His skill and finesse definitely helped, he thought.

"You got it man?" Cyborg called over impatiently.

"Yeah…" Beast boy looked down at the contents of the bowl. Tofu, cloth and orange juice mix. Nasty. "Maybe we should give this to Robin and tell him Starfire made it for him," he said, taking it over to Cyborg.

"Hmm…" he considered it, checking the mixture. "Naw, he'd see through it," he lifted part of the cloth out with a spoon he was washing, "besides, I don't think even she'd cook a…" he lifted it further, noticing that he was actually lifting it by the… hood? "What the…" he lifted it right out and slapped it down on the kitchen top. They both looked on in horror as he straightened it out, revealing its true form.

"That's not a cloth! I mean… it's…" Beast boy gulped hard and wiped some of the quickly forming sweat from his brow.

"It's…but how…?" Cyborg stammered, looking over at the couch, then back to the defiled garment.

"Dude, she's gonna turn you into a toilet ornament," Beast boy patted him on the back sympathetically.

"Yeah, it's gonna take…whoa, what?" he saw straight through Beast boy's game of 'pin the blame on the Cyborg'. "How come I'm the one takin' the fall?"

"Dude, come on. First you wiped your mouth with it, then you mopped the table with it…"

"And what about all the tofu?"

"Yeah well… umm… tofu is easy to clean out," Beast boy improvised.

"How do you know, did you ever wash any clothes?"

"Hey, I so did. I mean there was that one time…"

"That was Starfire."

"Yeah? Then what about…"

"Starfire again."

"Hmm…" Beast boy stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"How about this for an explanation? You were up late playing Gamestation and you made yourself a snack. Being Beast boy though, you got all excited at the game and knocked your cup over on the couch." Cyborg dusted off his hands and looked rather pleased with himself.

"What about the tofu?"

"Your plate got knocked over as well."

Beast boy thought for a moment. "She'll never buy it," he dismissed.

"Ah but here's the clever bit," he explained, with an extra helping of self satisfaction, "it's covered in tofu and orange juice."

"Yeah… and…"

"Well I never eat tofu. Can't stand the stuff… and she knows it, but you do drink orange juice." Check mate.

"Hmmm…." Beast boy stroked his chin again. It still had no effect, but he liked to think it made him look like he was carefully weighing up the options. Well, thinking about something other than games and tofu at least. "Ah!" he clicked his fingers.

"No we can't burn it," Cyborg shot him down instantly.

"No, I mean… we could clean it!"

"I thought we went through this already…"

"Well I remember I was watching this show one time, and they were talking about cleaning stuff."

"You were watching a show about… cleaning?" Cyborg raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. See? I do know stuff about cleaning," he beamed.

"Alright," Cyborg conceded. It was worth a shot. "So, what do we do?"

"Okay," Beast boy took a moment to try and remember the fine details, "do we have any bleach lying around?"

"Bleach? You sure man? I thought that stuff was bad for clothes."

"It is for some clothes, but most are good. Bleach can be a powerful cleaning agent, providing you get the dilution level right." It sounded as if he were reading straight from a book.

"Umm… okay." Cyborg was becoming convinced. For once, Beast boy seemed to know what he was talking about.

"Okay, I'll check the cloak."

"For what?"

"It said that there are sometimes directions on the label."

"Oh…" Cyborg started checking cupboards. Could it be that they might actually get away with this one? And thanks to Beast boy's ability to retain information? There was a niggling voice in the back of Cyborg's head that said things did not add up.

"Hmm…" Beast boy looked the cloak up and down for an obvious label. There was none. If there was one at all, it was going to be on the inside. That meant touching it. He grabbed a convenient fork from the dirty dishes and started going over the garment, pulling and prodding it until he was satisfied. "I should have guessed she wouldn't wear labels," he joked to himself.

"If there's no label," Cyborg set down a bottle of bleach on the work top in from of Beast boy, "then she didn't buy it. That means if we can't fix this…"

"Yeah yeah, I know, there won't be any way to replace it." Beast boy rolled up his sleeves and started removing the dishes from the sink. "Don't worry, it'll be clean in no time at all."

"But I do worry," Cyborg murmured. He had to just stand there while his fate was decided by the guy who could not even look after his own property or self, never mind anything else. It was like he could see it all going wrong, and he knew that if he looked back, he would ask himself why he did not act. How could this work out?

"Dude," Beast boy's voice carried an authority which did assuage Cyborg's concerns somewhat, "I've got this covered. Okay…" he ran a little water into the sink, "now for the bleach." He unscrewed the top and began pouring it into the half filled sink.

"Um…" Cyborg watched as the majority of the bleach splashed into the water, "are you sure we're gonna need that much?"

"Of course," Beast boy held the bottle until the last few drops had emptied from it, and then shook it to make sure, "it's logical."

"Yeah… how's that again?" Cyborg took a step back from the work area. The smell was pretty intense.

"Well," Beast boy rolled up his sleeves and picked up the cloak with the same fork, keeping it at arm's length, directing it to the sink, "bleach cleans stuff right?"

"Yeah…"

"So either bleach itself cleans stuff, or contains something that cleans stuff right?" he eased it into the mixture, making sure it was completely submerged.

"Yeah…"

"Well then the more bleach we use, the cleaner it gets right? I mean what's the worst that can happen?" Cyborg scratched his head, then his ear, then round to his chin. What _was_ the worst that could happen? He could get turned into…no…better not to think about that for the moment. Besides, it did sort of smell clean, if a little overwhelming, and there did not seem to be any major changes as of yet.

"So… do we just leave it here or what?"

"I guess so…" Beast boy stirred the cloak around in the sink in a figure of eight pattern, looking ahead with glazed eyes. Being up this late was starting to affect him now.

"Yeah, let's call it a day man," Cyborg said, attempting to muffle a yawn. Beast boy took one last look at his creation and said a silent prayer. May it all work out right for the sake of his not being a rat for the rest of his days.

"Okay then, but let's be sure to be up first."

"Don't worry, I intend to be."

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Dawn broke over Jump city. Often the most peaceful time of day, the air populated only by the serene sounds of lapping waves, a wistful breeze and the dreamy calls of nature. Today there was one additional sound that cut through the tranquillity.

"Noooooo!" shrieked Cyborg and Beast boy in unison.

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Well, there it is, another chapter. I always read these things through and, if it's a good day, think they're pretty decent. Then I think 'I could never write that', and wonder how I'm going to keep it going. I guess we will see how it turns out. If Beast boy ever says 'omg' or 'lol', be sure to note that I've taken a dive. Review, you swines!


	4. You mean politics?

Welcome back readers. As you can see, I have been engaged in a little writing. I hope it suits your pleasure.

I've not had regular access to the internet for about two weeks now. I've posted this chapter via my parents' computer, which does have internet access. Don't worry, I'm not writing at a slower rate than before, but being at home has some distractions. Did I mention that? No, I don't think I did. Well, this is the home of my parents and my regular place is … well… my place. Anyway, this isn't a Live Journal, just saying that because I haven't been able to read people's work nor read the reviews people will hopefully be leaving for this chapter. Well, I'm sure I will be able to manage a little time in an evening.

Okay, so, time for the reading after two things:

I do not own the Teen Titans.

This chapter was released on 03/09/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy).

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Chapter 04

"Is it just me, or does it smell a little… strange in here?" Robin moved around the kitchen area, trying to locate the source of the smell with his nose. Cyborg and Beast boy looked anxiously at each other.

"I don't smell anything, do you Cyborg?" Beast boy twitched nervously.

"Yeah… my scanners aren't picking up anything either," he flailed one arm around in the direction of the kitchen. They both beamed at Robin from the couch.

"Hmm…" Something was amiss, but he guessed it did not matter for now. Breakfast was a more pressing concern. As soon as Starfire had finished with the oven, that is.

"Hmm hmm mmm," she hummed gleefully, keeping a close eye on whatever it was she was cooking. Robin guessed from the aftermath on the worktop that it had not been designed with human consumption in mind. Fortunately, there was a comprehensive breakfast selection waiting in the refrigerator which had been expertly designed for that purpose. "I hope you have an appetite this morning, Robin," she chirped happily in his direction.

"Actually, yeah, I was just thinking about cooking something," he leaned back and pictured a mountainous plate of bacon, eggs, perhaps steak…

"Oh well then it is fortunate that I am already preparing something for your breakfast meal." That mountainous plate suddenly seemed very far away.

"Erm, well, I wasn't really planning on…" he started, but her hopeful expression was just too much, "err… having something so elaborate," he managed an almost convincing smile. Was there such a thing as being killed by kindness, he wondered. Still, how many people died as a result of that? Poisoning on the other hand…

"It is almost ready. Please be seated." Robin decided it was a good idea to get a drink first. It may help to wash down any unexpected surprises. He might even be able to slip it to Silkie while Starfire was not looking. Maybe he would live to see tomorrow.

"Sure, just a moment," he said, loading a large glass with orange juice.

"Definitely smells a little strange in here," Cyborg grimaced as he took a lungful of the kitchen air. Nobody was going to notice the bleach smell now.

"Dude, I could so use a drink right about now," Beast boy spoke loudly in Robin's general direction.

"Sorry," Robin shrugged as he sat down at the table, "but I just got sat down."

"Yes," Starfire added, lifting her creation from the oven, "he is not to move until he has finished his food." Robin shot Beast boy a sly smirk.

"No problem dude. Enjoy your breakfast." He smirked right back. A pungent scent reminded Robin that he had won nothing.

Beast boy's relaxed demeanour shattered when he heard the door to the living room open. It could only be one person, unless they were being invaded by half man, half spider zombies. He turned around just to make sure. Yes, it was Raven, and yes, she was cloakless.

"Good morning Raven," Starfire greeted warmly. "Would you like to try…"

"No thanks," Raven had already classed Starfire's experiment as a potential biological hazard.

"Umm.. hey Ray," Beast boy smiled nervously.

"Hmm…" Raven strode over to the couch and leaned on the back rest with her hands, looking it over. Beast boy swallowed hard.

"Looking for something?" he tried to remain composed but failed pretty miserably. Come to think of it, Raven thought, Beast boy and Cyborg were sat on the couch, almost silent, with no TV or Gamestation on. Could it get any more suspicious?

"Okay, where is it?" her empty tone making clear that she was in no mood for their games this morning.

"Where's what?" Cyborg asked with an almost believable tone of innocence, while carefully avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, we didn't see your… we didn't see anything," Beast boy shrugged and sank into his seat, resting his hands behind his head. If he could appear relaxed, it would surely make him look less guilty. Besides, how could she know what happened? There was no way, he was home and dry. He just needed to keep his cool.

A few moments passed. Starfire was putting the finishing touches to something that was possibly going to be eaten at some stage. Robin was making a mental list of all his worldly possessions and dividing them up should he not make it. Beast boy was not getting his TV. Cyborg was trying to look occupied with a read out on his arm. Fortunately, Raven was paying him little heed. Beast boy was busy trying to shake the niggling feeling that a glare was burning its way into the side of his skull.

He slowly cracked open one eye to try and confirm that it was just paranoia.

'I know you did it,' hissed Raven's icy glare. Beast boy squirmed in his chair, shifting his eyes to Cyborg for support.

His eyes made clear to Beast boy that he was on his own this time. He flicked his gaze over to Starfire, away from the prime suspect. She was busy watching Robin, who was watching his 'meal', which seemed to be watching Raven.

"Fine," Raven huffed. If they knew something, the truth would out soon enough. Beast boy could never keep a secret for long.

"Hey, why don't we see what's on the news?" Robin suggested, making a move to rise from his chair, but stopped by a gentle but firm hand pressing on his shoulder.

"Dude, the news?" Beast boy complained, "major bore fest. I recommend the movie channel's feature on…" the TV flickered to life, "hey!"

"Let's watch the news man, it'll be interesting" Cyborg hinted, having already taken control of the remote. Beast boy looked at him questioning expression. Cyborg enthusiastic about watching the news? "Some might call it a _distracting_ pastime," he nodded knowingly to Beast boy, who looked blank.

"Ohhh…" Beast boy's brain clicked into gear. "The _news._" He made an exaggerated wink at Cyborg, causing Raven to raise an eyebrow. It did not take a genius to read between the lines of their flimsy innuendos.

Beast boy sat back and bathed in the warm, mothering aura of the television. This might not be so bad, and it would get Raven off their backs for now.

"Welcome back to this election special edition of Eye on Events. Joining me now are Jump City Herald's political commentator, Daniel Holland, and our own political editor, Anna Nichols. Welcome to you both."

"Aww man," Beast boy complained. One thing about the wrath of Raven was that at least it was dished out quickly and decisively. This, on the other hand, would lead to a slow, painful death from boredom.

"Quiet," came a growl from Raven. Beast boy folded his arms in protest.

"First of all to yesterday's events. Daniel, how significant an advantage do you think it afforded Mayor Johnson?"

"Well, of course, having, or appearing to have the Teen Titans on side will bolster his figures which opinion polls suggested only three days ago, were not looking sufficient to win this."

"And now?"

"Things seem to be looking a lot brighter for him."

"Anna, is it not the case that the Teen Titans were always on his side? Why only now are we seeing it affect the votes?"

"Well, if we think of the Teen Titans like an arm of law enforcement."

"A very extended one," interrupted the presenter.

"Yes indeed, but if there were a few, say, police officers who were awarded for particular bravery, we wouldn't necessarily attribute their successes to the mayor. This is a similar situation. He needed to associate himself directly with the Teen Titans to gain a share of their popularity."

"So this was a master stroke by the mayor?"

"It was a wise move."

"What chance do you see for his competitors now, Daniel"

"Well, I wouldn't want to be one myself," he laughed. "But really they just need to keep attacking the mayor's weak points and hope for the best. You never know."

"So you wouldn't hold out much hope for them."

"Never say never." The TV flicked off and there was a moment of silence.

"So… umm," Beast boy started, trying to get his head around the report, "we're like 'with' the mayor now?" he looked over to Robin for an explanation

"It looks that way," Robin said solemnly, his expression making clear his uneasy thoughts on the matter. Starfire took a seat at the table next to him, reflecting his negative visage.

"But… like… they just said he's winning. And that it's thanks to us. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Let me put it this way," Raven explained, "if the mayor of Jump City is decided by who is the greater friends with the Teen Titans and not by who is better for the job, is that not a bad system?" He had to admit that he had not thought of it that way.

"Hmm," he said after a moment's thought, "I guess you're right." Raven raised both her eyebrows in surprise. That was an unusual admission. "But what can we do about it?"

"That's not the only problem here," Robin turned to face Raven, "is it."

"No," she quietly agreed.

"Okay dudes, someone's gonna have to tell me what's going on," Beast boy was clearly concerned, and not just because everyone else was. If they knew of a problem, why were they not jumping into action right now?

"Let me see if I've got this straight," Cyborg got up from his seat and slowly made his way toward the kitchen, clearly deep in thought. "Y'all correct me if I start to get off the point," he shot a glance at Raven and Robin, who both nodded in acceptance. Beast boy was listening. "Okay, so, the mayor was lookin' like he was gonna lose. But now everyone thinks we're on his side, so he's gonna win." The others nodded along, confirming what he had said followed their understanding. "So we're in the middle of this thing. If anyone else want to win… they're gonna have to do something about us." Beast boy gulped. Now he was following too. All too well.

"You mean… like…"

"No," Raven pre-empted his suggestion that they would have to be removed. "I would say _we_ don't stand between the other candidates and their victory. Our popularity does."

"So, can't we just say that we don't support the mayor?" asked a somewhat relieved Beast boy. "We'd be out of the way then."

"Yeah," agreed Cyborg, "why can't we do _that_?"

"You really want to make an enemy of the mayor?" asked Robin.

"If he loses, it won't matter, will it?" he replied, "he won't be the one with the power any more."

"We should try to not get involved," advised Raven.

"No. We are already involved," Cyborg gave her a challenging look and a serious tone. "Robin, what do you think?" Hopefully he would see sense and agree.

Robin rubbed his chin for a moment. It was not the type of straight forward problem that he liked. No bad guys and no people in danger. Not directly at least. No, this was far more troublesome. "We have two options. Either we leave it as it is or we speak out." Cyborg started to speak, but Robin spoke over him. "If we say nothing, the mayor will probably win, and be grateful to us for it and maybe, just maybe, some people who matter will notice that I specifically said I wanted us to stay outside of politics at that ceremony." Raven shook her head. That latter part was probably not going to happen in her evaluation. "If we say something, then we risk alienating the mayor. He may still be able to get in without us and, either way, could make things difficult if he wanted. We do rely on public money and a good public image to get by. The first seems more sensible I think…"

"Sounds like a no brainer to me, dude," Beast boy cut in.

"I agree," Raven's tone and posture indicated a lack of respect for Beast boy's conclusion. It was in line with her own, but she was sure it was for the wrong reasons.

"I agree also," Starfire ventured her opinion, having been listening intently to the discussion thus far.

"So I'm the only one who thinks us being used is a bad thing then?" griped Cyborg. He took a seat at the table opposite Starfire and folded his arms. "I don't want to cause trouble, but these guys have to learn they can't push us around for their own ends. Besides, Raven," she perked her head, "I thought you said it was a bad way of doing business, with people all trying to get pally with us."

"I did, but…"

"So why aren't you with me?" His voice was raised and bore considerable agitation.

"Dude," Beast boy was serious now too, "calm down. It's about thinking about what's best for us, never mind those guys." Raven shook her head. She knew he had not understood.

"Actually…" Starfire spoke up again, "I believe it is an issue of keeping one's word." Beast boy was puzzled again, but Raven seemed to see where Starfire was going.

"Okay," Cyborg shook his head, "you lost me now."

"I said we'd stay out of it." Robin reminded them.

"You mean politics?" Beast boy clarified. Robin nodded.

"Yeah, a fact they conveniently chose to forget when they wanted our support," argued Cyborg.

"And a fact I'm sure they'd be quick to remember if we started making trouble for them," Raven rebutted. Cyborg fell silent for a moment, as did they all. It was starting to look like the only credible option was to leave things as they were.

"So… we get used then," Cyborg conceded with reticence. The other Titans nodded in a reluctant consensus.

"But wait though," Beast boy remembered something, "aren't we're still in the way of the other guys who want to be mayor? What are we going to do about that?"

"Nothing," Raven said flatly.

"Nothing?" He was surprised and annoyed at the same time. "Are we just supposed to wait for them to come to us?"

"We did bring it up as an issue," Robin confessed, "but it was just to make everyone aware. Besides, _who_ is it that is going to come to us?" Beast boy looked like he was going to speak for a moment, but then realised he had no reply. "And what are they going to do?"

"They may seek to tarnish our reputation," Starfire responded, "and with this election so close now, they would have to make their move soon, whoever they are." Robin could see she, and the others, were concerned by this whole affair. He could worry this out later, perhaps with Raven, but the fact remained that this was all just conjecture.

"Look," he sought to reassure, and chose an earnest tone "these guys are politicians, not criminals. I'll admit I'm concerned about this, but what can we do? If anyone wants to discredit us, they'll do it through the newspapers and TV, not by force. Even then, we can't do anything until they do. _If_ they do. For now, it's going to have to be business as usual."

"Business as usual huh," Cyborg muttered. He was not happy with the arrangement, but he had no other suggestions.

Robin looked at his food. It was not quite true that they could do nothing in this matter, but the question was how real was the threat? Looking into the dealings of public representatives raised many questions, legal and ethical, and with no actual evidence, it would be a dangerous road to take.

"Well," Cyborg took a deep breath, as if to draw a line under the discussion, "I'm guess I'd better be takin' care of my own business as usual."

"A little Gamestation you mean?" Beast boy flicked his eyebrows in a challenging fashion.

"Nah, just some work on the car that I've been puttin' off," he rose from his chair and nodded to Robin and Starfire. "Catch you guys later." Starfire offered a wave, but Robin seemed rather involved in his own thoughts.

"Beast boy…" Raven took the opportunity to edge along the sofa in his direction. "There was something I wanted to ask you, about this whole series of events."

"Oh?" he turned to her with a smug look. He was not sure when she started valuing his opinion on these things, but then he did have that natural charisma that could carry him through a lot of situations.

"Yeah… what did you do with my cloak?" He felt the trap close in.

"Uh… " he thought quickly.

Well, maybe not _that_ quickly.

"…well?" Clearly Beast boy's brain was not working on all cylinders. Okay, time for some slow thinking then. "Beast boy?" Any thinking would do.

Raven leaned a little closer and waved her hand in front of his face. No response. She was just about to ask the others for help when a light seemed to come on behind his eyes. "What was that Cyborg? You want me to help you out?" Masterful.

"Huh?" Cyborg turned around. "Actually, I think I got it. It's just some work on the brakes. Not really a two man job."

"No… I mean… you said something about _bleaching_ the tyres or something?" His emphasis on that particular word gave Raven cause for thought. Especially since Cyborg would now undoubtedly pick up on whatever hint Beast boy was dropping.

"Oh… right," Cyborg nodded slowly. Hint transfer complete. Beast boy flipped up from his seat and gave Raven a mock salute.

"Sorry Raven, duty calls." She leaned back and stretched. It might be an idea to leave them to their own devices for now. If they had destroyed her cloak, she could kill them later. Also they probably would have already left the country. No, it seemed more like they were working on something secretive together. Maybe they had messed up the cloak and were working to fix the damage. Either way, she could still take a little time out to make them feel uncomfortable.

"Cyborg…" she caught him just before he and Beast boy left. After she saw he had acknowledged her call, she continued. "I'm no car expert, but… why would you need to bleach tyres?"

"Aah. Well, that's…" Cyborg looked at Beast boy, who looked back at Cyborg and shrugged. "Well, you know…"

"No, I don't know," Raven tore through the thin attempt to deflect the conversation.

"Well, then, it's good that I'm here to explain it…" he looked as if he were about to start sweating profusely.

"Umm, maybe it wasn't the tyres," Beast boy piped up.

"Maybe…" A seasoned Raven observer might have suspected she was enjoying this.

"Yeah, that was it," Cyborg became somewhat more relaxed as a potential explanation came to him. "The headlights. Gotta' keep 'em bleached."

"To… keep them nice and clean, right?"

"Yeah. Little green man here got it confused. You know how slow he is."

"Hey!" Beast boy protested. Sure they were in on this together, but there was a limit.

"Oh I know," Raven cast a sly smile at Beast boy who returned a scowl.

"Come on then little man," Cyborg turned around to leave, "let's go bleach some tyres."

"Headlights," Beast boy hastily corrected. Cyborg decided the best way to explain that rather obvious error was with his feet.

"Whoa, wait a minute dude," Beast boy called as he scampered after his partner in crime.

"They are acting more strangely than I would expect," observed Starfire.

"I don't think there's a level of strange I would say was unusual for those two," Raven remarked.

Starfire watched Robin. He was not eating, nor was he speaking. Maybe he was concerned about the events of before. He certainly looked to be deep in thought. "Perhaps there is something I can do?" she asked hopefully.

He looked over at her. So concerned for him, yet, to her, he felt he could not tell his thoughts. Maybe that was wrong, but why make her worried too? No, there was no need to get her involved in something that might turn out to be nothing more than a bad feeling. "It's okay," he said, looking back at the table. Although those were his words, even Starfire could tell it was not 'okay'.

"But…"

"Seriously Star, it's fine." She looked down, a clear look of rejection on her face. She did not like seeing him this way, and liked being unable to help even less.

"Well, then," she stood up from the table. Why would he not talk to her about this? Was she so unable to understand? "I shall… go and address to Silkie." She made a half hearted attempt at a smile and then made her exit. Had the others been paying attention, they would have noticed her heavy walk and dejection carriage.

After several minutes of uncomfortable atmosphere, Raven decided to speak to Robin. She too did not believe it was 'fine'. "So…" she started, taking Starfire's seat, "err… what's up?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't know," he cupped his head in his hands and wiped his eyes, "I'm just not sure what to do."

"Okay," that was a start, "you mean about this election thing?"

"Yeah. I know you think we should do nothing about this,"

"Well that's what I told Beast boy."

"So… then…" he looked at her with some relief, "what do you think we should do?"

"There are things we can do and there are things we should do." He nodded attentively, "I didn't necessarily lie to Beast boy before. If you are thinking what I suspect you're thinking…" she trailed off, expecting him to complete her statement with a statement of his own.

"…and what do you suspect I'm thinking?" he was back to his sober tone, making sure they were on the same wavelength.

"If I thought something was going to happen to us as a result all this," she waved a hand loosely, as if to denote the city's political situation, "I might be tempted to look into those who would stand to gain."

"That might be tough," he hypothesised, "those are public officials you're talking about, not criminals."

"As candidates for mayor, they have to expect their details to be examined. There are plenty of journalists out there who do that anyway. Some people may look them up for other reasons, like simple research." She definitely had a point there. These people had to expect that people would go digging around. If he did some light research himself, there would be no harm.

"But if they did want to keep a secret…" he was starting to sound more at ease now. Perhaps this conversation was helping to assuage his uncertainty.

"…then they would keep it well hidden." They shared a knowing nod. Robin even managed the forming of a smile. "We still have to be careful though."

Should there be information they did not want to be found, that would most likely be the information he would be after, and that might mean crossing a line.

"I know," he acknowledged, "but there are a lot of people out there who would like to see us fall. You don't think I'm just being paranoid, do you?"

"Not particularly. It's always going to be the case for people like us that the 'bad guys' will want to take us down. These evil doers are not always so obviously presented as the likes of Cinderblock. I guess we can only deal with things as they come."

"Sucks to be the good guys sometimes huh," he broadened his smile and picked up his fork. Raven looked at the fork and then at the breakfast.

"Not planning on doing anything drastic I hope," a little variety in her tone was enough to let Robin know she was attempting a joke.

"Don't worry," he prodded the offering a couple of times, "I know what I'm doing."

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"Dude, I'm telling you, Raven knows," flapped a flustered Beast boy.

"Sure she knows _something_ is going on, but what _exactly_ is it she knows?" They stopped outside of Beast boy's room.

"I don't know," Beast boy stopped to slide open the door, "but she knows!"

"Aw man," Cyborg flinched at the invasive stench, "don't you ever clean this place?"

"Aaah," Beast boy enjoyed a lungful of the familiar fragrance, "nothing quite like it."

"Yeah, I'll agree with you on that," he said, shielding his nose as they entered. As usual, the floor, as well as the majority of surfaces, was a mosaic of unwashed clothing, uneaten food, life forms inhabiting said uneaten food, and one or two things which defied description.

Beast boy rummaged around in his cupboard for a moment. "It's definitely here somewhere," he called back.

Cyborg decided it would be wise to step outside and keep watch for the others. The bonus to that situation being that the air in the corridor was free from noxious gases.

"Ok, here it is," Beast boy brandished a black sack. "Cy, in here," he gestured. Cyborg took a last breath of fresh air and went back in.

"Definitely the right one?"

"Definitely," Beast boy opened the bag to reveal a pinkish clump of material.

"Okay," Cyborg rubbed his chin, "now we need a plan."

"Hmm…" Beast boy looked around for inspiration. "Aaah," something came to him. "We could replace that one with one of her others."

"She has _others_? If she has others, why wasn't she wearing one this morning?" He pointed out, "and why was she so worried about losing that one?"

"Well, that's…umm… dunno," Beast boy grinned sheepishly. Cyborg shook his head and wondered if Beast boy's head was screwed on correctly today.

"Couldn't we just re-dye it?" he proposed.

"I guess so," Beast boy shrugged. "Actually, that TV show said that…"

"Oh no," Cyborg interrupted before Beast boy could suggest another plan which would land them in yet more trouble, "that show got us into this mess."

"Yeah, and it might get us out of it." Cyborg was silent for a moment, allowing Beast boy to continue. "Anyway, I was _going_ to say it said we have to be careful about getting the right colour."

"That's _it_?"

"Yup."

"_I_ could have told you that," Cyborg snorted.

"Yeah well, you don't even know what colour dye we need to get," Beast boy returned defiantly.

"Yeah, well neither do you," he growled.

"I so do. It's a blue… bluish purple…" he tried to remember, "umm… purple?" Cyborg slapped one hand over his eyes in despair.

"So neither of us know?"

"Just go with whatever. She'll never notice dude," Beast boy waved off the problem. If there had been a clean section of wall, Cyborg would have banged his head into it. Or maybe Beast boy's.

"She wears it every day. If there's even a slight change, she's gonna notice and then she's gonna send us into a dimension of eternal pain. With no Gamestation!" Cyborg spelled out sternly.

"Okay, okay dude," Beast boy looked fazed now, at least. "Hmm… so, we need a way of finding out the colour that this used to be," he shook the bag around a little.

"So… any ideas?" Cyborg knew he was in trouble when he was asking that question to Beast boy.

"Well, isn't her leotard the same colour…"

"No!" Cyborg shelved the idea instantly. "Although," he started to look upbeat, for the first time in a while, "what about her shoes?"

Beast boy nodded slowly. That would definitely make more sense. "Okay, that idea is better."

"Now all we need to do is…"

"Wait!" Beast boy cut in, "are her shoes the same colour?" Cyborg rubbed the back of his neck and tried to recall an occasion when he had taken particular notice of Raven's footwear. "She pretty much always wears the cloak over the top," Beast boy tried to help along Cyborg's thinking process.

"You're right," Cyborg acknowledged, "but it's our best shot. All we gotta do is wait for the right moment…" he stopped as a smug looking grin spread widely across Beast boy's face. "What?"

"I totally have a better idea."

--------------------

"Oh Silkie, why will he not tell me of his troubles?" Starfire rolled over on her bed to face her pet. It seemed more interested in the bed spread, but he was the only one who she felt had the time to listen to her problems. "I know I am not yet familiar with all the ways of this planet, but if he would take the time to explain these matters to me, I would be eager to listen."

Silkie responded with a hearty belch.

"I have had to deal with political matters on Tamaran in fact, so I am well versed." She laid back and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. "It is not even so much the point that he is not telling me of these dealings in particular, but that he will not tell me the things which cause him so much concern. If we are such good friends, should he not share with me? I am worried for his worries and I believe they say here that a problem shared is a problem divided equally by two, do they not?"

She sat up and pulled Silkie onto her lap. "Sometimes I think your life is so much more simple than mine. You are free from these worries and must only be concerned with sleeping, feeding and other such bodily matters." She rubbed his belly area causing appreciative gurgling sounds. "At least _you_ feel free to burden me with your problems," she smiled and brought the beast to her shoulder for a hug.

"Perhaps," she started again, getting up to stroll around the room as she spoke, "it is one of those times where Robin takes it upon himself to solve the problems on his own. Besides," she continued, in a more upbeat mood, "I may not have been as forthcoming as I could have been with making clear my desire for him to share his thoughts." Her self assurance was climbing as she ordered her thoughts. "I shall talk to him more. He will surely open up to me. Yes," she clapped her hands together, "I shall pursue course of action. Thank you for lending me your time, Silkie, it has been most useful."

Silkie was not quite sure what he had done that was so good, but extra treats were always welcome. Maybe he should attempt to ingest the bed fabrics more often.

--------------------

Robin was sat taking in a peaceful afternoon and some pleasant weather atop one of Jump City's many high rise buildings. He had happened upon a secluded spot and was enjoying the much needed solitude it provided.

"Aah," he exhaled blissfully, adjusting his position for optimum comfort. The sun heated concrete proving a strangely restful surface, allowing him to leave behind his stresses and just appreciate life's simple pleasures.

Gazing dreamily into the sky, he traced the outlines of the clouds with his mind's eye until they existing as much in his understanding as in out there in the blue.

"The lost children are a spectacular mushroom cloud in the sky," came a young female's voice. Robin smiled inwardly and shifted to a sitting position. A girl not much younger then he was stood close to the edge. Her black hair flitted in the light breeze. Her posture was rigid but somehow relaxed, and the attire she wore reminded Robin of a school uniform of sorts, even the shoes, which she held one in each hand.

Probably just warming her feet, he thought, turning his eyes back to the clouds, which had now quickly grown menacing and dark. They threatened a downpour momentarily, but Robin was completely exposed. Scrambling to his feet, he noted that the girl was no longer stood at the building's edge. In fact she was nowhere to be seen.

Heading to the edge to investigate, Robin found himself caught in a sudden violent gale. Rain started lashing down and darkness quickly surrounded him.

"Robin," a voice caught his mind.

"Uh," he managed a weak reply as a new world came flooding in to replace the last. "What the…" he jolted forward, startled by the sudden change in his surroundings. "Oh…" he sat back and wiped some sweat from his brow as things started to make sense again. He was in one of the beds in the medical bay, although the memory of how he had gotten there seemed to escape him.

To the side of the bed, a concerned Raven was trying to hide a look of relief. "Good to see you back with us," she uttered.

"The food right?" he swallowed hard, recalling his most recent memory. She nodded solemnly.

He looked over at the monitor. "I still feel a little drowsy. Am I okay?"

"You're fine, I think," she turned to assess the readouts herself, "but I would stick to a light diet for now."

"I guess that makes sense," he agreed, easing himself back down into a laying position. "How long was I out?"

"Not quite an hour," she stood from her chair. "I can only guess it had some unintended sedative effect. I recommend resting for a little longer."

"Don't worry," he waved an arm, "I'm not planning on investigating anything until I'm fully recovered. Besides," he smiled at her, "doctor's orders."

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Okay then, how do you like them beans? Did someone say slow burning? I think they did, and I think it was me. I'm going to leave this comment fairly short, but in the past I have enjoyed the little rants of writers, so if you want to see me talk more garbage, just say. Time for a few distractions before I get stuck into chapter five. Muhaha etc.


	5. Close call, huh?

Welcome back once again. This one's a little soon eh? Well, I had a bit of inspiration recently. Don't get used to it.

I think I had all of two reviews for my previous chapter so far. Always good to know it's being appreciated.

Well, before this gets too long winded, I should say that I do not own the Teen Titans, and that this chapter was released on 11/09/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy).

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Chapter 05

"Ugh, I know it's here somewhere," Beast boy grunted, exploring a pile of assorted items of clothing.

"It would be easier if you would just tell me your plan," a mildly frustrated Cyborg had been waiting in Beast boy's sanctuary of putrefaction for around ten minutes now, and that was around ten minutes too long.

"Chill dude, it'll be worth it," he called from behind the bed somewhere. Cyborg drummed his fingers on the doorframe impatiently. He certainly hoped it _would_ be worth it. "Aaha!" Beast boy declared, holding aloft a slice of pizza with a piece of paper stuck to it.

"You're gonna have to help me out this time," Cyborg pointed questioningly at the pizza.

"Oh yeah, right," Beast boy peeled the paper from the pizza. He looked it over for a moment, trying to figure out whether it was too far gone to eat.

"'Oh yeah right' what?"

"This is the solution," he waved the paper in one hand and threw away the pizza slice with the other. It may have been edible, but that mould would have come back to haunt him later. "It's a letter from Clara."

"And?"

"And it has her phone number in it."

"And?"

"And so I can call her up."

"And?" Cyborg was really hoping there was a point on the horizon.

"And so…" Beast boy thought through what he was going to say, "okay, you know at the ceremony there were all those screaming fans?"

"Yeah…"

"Well remember that some had some pretty good Raven outfits?"

"Aah," Cyborg was finally thinking on the same level. "But where does Clara come in to this?"

"Well, she's a pretty big fan herself, of me in particular," he stopped to preen himself in his mirror. "Anyway, I figure she either knows, or can put us in contact with someone who does."

"You know, that's actually a pretty good idea." Cyborg had to admit, it sounded like the most realistic plan so far, even if it did come from Beast boy.

"Of course dude, what did you expect?" Beast boy gloated, peeling congealed morsels from the letter.

"So… you gonna call her then?"

"Umm…" Beast boy patted his pockets, and then looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Don't tell me you lost your communicator _again_," Cyborg glared at Beast boy. This really was not the time.

"Of course not, I know exactly where it is," Beast boy responded defensively. "It's in this room. Somewhere."

"Oh man."

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"So then we shared a pizza. Yeah… no… well, by that I mean he finished his and I gave him mine," Clara played with her hair, sinking into the plush leather arm chair.

"Are you still on that phone?" her dad called from another room.

"Hold on a second," she shielded the receiver with her hand, "I'll just be another minute."

"Okay, well I want to use it in a bit."

"Right, okay, I'll let you know," she uncovered the receiver, "still there? Yeah, well you might have hung up. Well I don't know why… maybe you got bored. Anyway, so I gave him some of mine… it was pepperoni… yeah well I took that off of course. No, I don't think he'd have eaten it if the juices had sunk in. Well the pizza itself isn't really that important. He was totally impressed that I wasn't one of those crazy fans who wanted him to turn into stuff for them. What? Oh… well, yeah I was curious of course, but I wanted him to have a good time. No I don't mean like that… honestly," she laughed, switching positions so her legs dangled over one of the arm rests while her head leant on the other. "So then we went back to my place. Yeah I know, that was pretty cool, although he met my dad. I know, I know! Talk about… yeah, that's what I mean. Totally. Oh, hold on, I think I have someone on the other line, just a moment," she sat forward and straightened her dressing gown. "Hello, Tespey residence," she answered formally. "Hey Beast boy," a grin spread across her face as she sat back again. "Just hang on, there's someone on the other line okay? Ok hold on. Yeah Sarah? Yeah, sorry, I'm going to have to go now. Yeah, Beast boy's on the other line. Uh huh… uh huh… yeah well don't worry, I'll _try_ not to come across as too crazy. Okay, yeah, see you later then. Bye." She cleared her throat before switching back to Beast boy. "So… what's up? Oh, I'm fine, just talking on the phone. No, I meant _before_ you called. Yeah, nah, she had to go, so it's okay. So, how's Cyborg? Hey, is that him in the background? Yeah, I thought it was. What did he mean by that? No way… no way!" she raised her voice in disbelief before remember her place. "How did you manage that?"

"Everything okay in here?" her dad popped his head around the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," she waved him away. "Sorry, I missed that bit, my dad came in. So when did you… and how…," she listened intently. "She's gonna kill you, like dead… she doesn't? Oh no, I won't tell her, how would I? No… I don't think you're supposed to do that. Anyway, so… yeah… oh right, yeah… okay, that makes sense. Yeah, I do as it happens. This girl I know was going to help me make one. No, she didn't in the end, she was too busy, but I think she managed her own. Looked pretty good. Yeah… sure, I can ask her if you want… sure, no problem. Well, I can give her a call now if you'd like. Yeah, I'll call you back after I talked to her. No, it's no problem, now get off the line so I can call her," she grinned. "Yeah, sure. Okay, talk to you in a bit. Bye."

"Can I use that phone yet?"

"No!"

--------------------

"Well?"

"She's gonna call me back," Beast boy flopped down on his bed.

"But she did find someone, right?" Cyborg took a few steps towards Beast boy.

"Yeah, she said she knows someone. She's gonna contact them, then call me back."

"Who is _who_ going to contact?" a familiar, flat voice came from the door. Beast boy sat bolt upright on his bed, looking over to the doorway. Cyborg took a swift step to one side, so as to conceal the black bag from Raven's view.

"Uh…" Cyborg started.

"Clara. It was Clara," Beast boy interrupted, grinning like a fool.

"Yeah, she was…" Cyborg took over again.

"Going to call her friend," Beast boy cut him off again, prompting an annoyed glare. "Cyborg met her on the red carpet. Thought she was cute. He's been bugging me to get Clara to give him her number. Big guy's in love," he returned Cyborg's glare with a knowing wink.

"Yeah…" Cyborg growled through gritted teeth, "head over heels."

"Right, whatever," if they did not want to tell her what was going on, that was fine, she thought. Covering her nose, she took a step inside, kicking and empty bottle from her path. "Anyway, two things to say." Beast boy relaxed as, in his mind, he had just dodged another bullet. "Firstly, I'm still missing my cloak," Beast boy froze up again. "I … look, maybe I was a bit hasty in assuming it was you guys who took it…"

"Yeah, just a bit," Beast boy put on an offended tone, intent on maximising the high ground on this one. "I mean sure we play some games, but why would we do that? It's too childish for us. But since you felt you needed to apologise…" he stopped when he noticed Cyborg's expression, which clearly said 'don't push it'. Raven was equally unimpressed. "That is… uhh," he scratched his head while the cogs in his brain moved into gear, "what was that other thing you wanted to say?"

"Hmm…" Raven considered Beast boy's trade mark guilty overreaction. "The second thing was that Robin's in the medical bay."

"He okay?" Cyborg took a concerned tone.

"Yeah dude," Beast boy jumped to his feet, "he's not dead or anything is he?"

"No," Raven raised an eyebrow in Beast boy's direction, "he's not dead yet."

"Well, that's a relief," Beast boy gave an abashed smile and shifted his gaze.

"Anyway," she continued, "I think he ate something that disagreed with him."

"Disagreed like minor argument or disagreed like world war scenario?" asked Cyborg.

"Or disagreed like Starfire's cooking," Beast boy added quite seriously.

"He's fine now, just resting. You can go and see him yourselves if you want," she turned slightly, indicating a path to the medical bay.

"Yeah, I'll head over there now," Cyborg turned to Beast boy. "You coming?"

"Er, sure thing," he remembered the sack on the bed, "just give me a minute." Cyborg made his exit and left with Raven in the direction of the infirmary.

"Phew," Beast boy picked up the sack and looked around for somewhere suitable to put it. If Raven was on to them, he would need a good hiding place, and he was pretty sure that she was, despite what she had said.

After one or two minutes of thinking, the only idea that came to him was the back of his closet under a pile of clothes. Smelly clothes. She'd never look there. "Score one Beast boy," he declared smugly, tucking the cloak filled sack under the garments. "Hmm, still needs a little something," he folded his arms and viewed the pile from several angles, surveying the level of security. "Ah, that's it," he clicked his fingers and reached in to a nearby colony of empty chocolate wrappers. "I know you're here somewhere," he rustled around for a moment before pulling out a pair of unwashed boxer shorts. He took a brief smell and held them at arm's length. "Woo, these bad boys will do it," he gagged, placing them gently on top of the clothes pile in the closet and dusting off his hands. He shut the door and nodded to himself. "No one's going in there anytime soon."

--------------------

"Hey man, how's things?" Cyborg strode into the medical bay with Raven in tow, parking himself in a seat at the foot of Robin's bed.

"I've been better," he smiled gently, "but I've also been a lot worse."

"You've looked better," Cyborg adopted a jovial tone, "but then that's just my opinion."

"Huh, well you're looking like you could use a recharge, or maybe a polish," Robin smirked; showing his ability to administer a mocking had not been impaired.

"Hey, this is all good, all of the time," Cyborg dusted off his metal shoulder, faking a defensive posture.

"Anyway," Robin and Cyborg exchanged a look of understanding, "still not found your cloak, Raven?"

"Hm," Raven looked down at herself, as if to check if it had somehow appeared in the last minute. "Looks that way."

"Well, yeah," Robin cleared his throat, "I can help you look for it when I'm finished here."

"I thought you had that… thing you wanted to do," she tried an innuendo of her own.

"Thing?" Cyborg picked up on it straight away.

"Um," Robin considered his options. Would it matter if he told Cyborg that he was going to look into the details of the candidates for mayor? After all, Raven had pointed out that it was no more than the work of a typical journalist. "Just doing some research." Maybe he could shake him with an avoidance.

"Oh yeah? Anything important?" he continued to probe. Robin looked at Raven as if to ask for advice. She replied with a shrug, which he interpreted as her indifference to him telling Cyborg.

"Alright, well I was going to look into the mayoral candidates," he kept his eyes fixed for Cyborg's reaction.

"Hmm," Cyborg scratched his chin, "I thought you," he turned to Raven, "well, _you_, said it was best to do nothing."

"Well, we thought…" she started.

"We thought it was best to be prepared," Robin broke in. "I'd like to think nothing is going to happen from this, but it always helps to be prepared for the worst."

Cyborg thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, makes sense to me, man. Can't be too careful." Robin breathed a small sigh of relief.

The three Titans' attention was drawn to the door as Beast boy made a hasty entrance. "Did I miss anything?" he huffed, diving on to the adjacent bed and making himself comfortable. Cyborg raised an eyebrow at Robin, who looked over at Raven. She turned her eyes to Beast boy for a moment before returning to Robin and shaking her head resolutely. It seemed they had decided he was not to know yet.

"Nothing much," Robin bent the truth. He decided he would tell Beast boy if anything worth of note came from the investigation, but for now discretion was the best option.

"Yeah…" Cyborg followed Robin's lead, "just laughing at Robin's hair."

"Yeah dude, you need to comb that," Beast boy joined in. Robin reached for a hand mirror on the bedside table.

"Hmm, I guess," he grudgingly admitted, seeing the state of it for himself.

"So, Starfire finally hospitalised you with her cooking then?" Beast boy grinned mischievously.

"I doubt that was her intention," Robin replied. "Actually, I would appreciate it if you guys didn't mention this to Star." Cyborg, Raven and Beast boy exchanged glances before giving signs of agreement. "Assuming you didn't already tell her…"

"Nah, I didn't see her in a while," Cyborg thought back.

"She went to feed Silkie earlier, that was the last I saw of her," Raven recalled.

"Okay. Well, I'd just rather not hurt her feelings."

"So… what do we tell her if she asks?" enquired Beast boy.

"Just say I was feeling under the weather or something."

"She ain't gonna let you off that easily Robin," Cyborg reminded him. Starfire would certainly want to know every detail of Robin's symptoms if he were ill in the slightest.

"I'll worry about that when the time comes."

"And what do you tell her next time she cooks you something?" asked Raven. Robin furrowed his brow. It was the age old issue of honesty versus consideration of feelings, and there was never an easy solution.

"She's got a point man."

"I know. Well, as I see it, this is the first time she's ever actually put me in need of medical attention. Any cook is going to have accidents with their cooking," he reasoned.

"I suppose," Raven shrugged, "but I might not be around the next time."

"Yeah dude, she might be meditating, or reading or… meditating…" Beast Boy teased.

"At least those activities require some discipline, unlike…" she was cut off by the beeping of Beast boy's communicator.

"Hold that thought," Beast boy flashed a cheeky grin and turned his attention to the call. "Hello? Oh, hey Clara," he beamed, a rosy tint spreading over his cheeks. "Hold on a moment," he covered the receiver. "Be right back guys."

"Okay, remember to ask about that…" Cyborg began, but Beast boy had already upped and left. He turned his attention back to Robin who was giving him a sly look. "What?"

"What would you want to know from Beast boy's new lady friend?"

"Well… uh," Cyborg squirmed, castigating himself. Why, oh why did he have to say anything?

"I think there's someone he likes." Raven was sure that, had that been a lie, she would make him live it.

"Oh really," Robin leaned forward. "Anyone we know?"

"I… uhh… just one of Clara's friends," Cyborg fidgeted with his hands under the heated glare of his comrades.

"You sure work fast big guy," Robin laughed, leaning to pat his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, well…" grumbled Cyborg, tailing off to nothing.

"Speaking of which, didn't Beast boy go on a date yesterday?"

"Yeah, he and Clara went out for pizza." Cyborg was all too happy to change the subject.

"Hmm…" Robin scratched his ear.

"Problem?" asked Cyborg.

"Not really… I just… well, didn't he say she was a fan?"

"Yeah. Well, so he says." Beast boy was known to exaggerate on occasion.

"And you think dating a fan is bad?" Raven cut straight to what she believed to be Robin's point.

"I just wonder if it's the best basis for a relationship…"

"Yeah well, I wouldn't be the one to tell that to him," asserted Cyborg. "Little guy's pretty much into this one."

"I guess we'll just have to hope it works out then." Robin sat back.

"Besides, they only just started, there's plenty of time for BB to mess it up."

"When she learns that he has the mind of a child, she will lose interest," Raven conveyed earnestly, although still earning an amused smirk from the other two.

"Oh, anyway, Cyborg, since I'm going to be working on some things,"

"You mean that 'research'?"

"Yeah… anyway if you're not busy, you can help Raven looking for her cloak."

"Erm," he coughed nervously, "I think I might have some stuff to do…"

"Like what?" Raven interrogated. If Cyborg had been wearing a collar, he would have loosened it by now.

"Oh you know Ray," he tried to play it cool, "T-car… and stuff."

"Okay… well then you can help me after that."

"Sure, I guess," he forced a smile at her.

"Good," she returned an equally false look. Robin could have cut the tension with a birdarang.

--------------------

"So… what's up?" Beast boy strutted down the corridor, trying to sound casual. "Yeah… I was just in the medical bay with Robin. Nah, he's okay, just something he ate. So did you ask… yeah. Cool. Did she… awesome. Oh… hmm… that's not good. Then do you know where she got it? Maybe they can help… yeah. I think I'll have to go down there today. I don't think I can keep it from Raven for long. If you wanted, we could… y'know, if you wanted… yeah? Awesome! I mean… err… yeah, that's cool by me. So I'll meet you at… erm… what was the place? Okay, and where's that? Okay. When do you wanna meet? I was thinking more like… an hour. Okay, see you then. Bye." He took the turning toward his room, a slight skip in his step as he went. Two dates in two days. Score two to the Beast boy.

--------------------

Robin was not in the main living area, nor did he respond to repeated knocking on his door. Perhaps he had taken it upon himself to battle some foul foe alone. Perhaps he had fallen and was unable to get up. Perhaps he had gone on a date with another… Starfire took a deep breath. No, there would most likely be a simple explanation. "There will most likely be a simple explanation for the unknown status of Robin's whereabouts," she reiterated out loud. She would feel a lot better knowing where he was. "Ah, perhaps…" she reached into her pocket and retrieved her communicator. He would surely respond to a call.

Several moments of trying yielded no response. That was unusual. Maybe something was amiss after all. She should try to contact one of the others. Fortunately, it seemed like they were available. "Cyborg?" she checked the connection had been established.

"Hey Star," came Cyborg's voice to her relief.

"Have you seen Robin recently? I have looked in several locations where I would expect him to be, including his room and have had no success. I have even tried his communicator, but he is not responding. I fear something untoward may have befallen…"

"Hey, calm down, it's okay," he sounded calm and reassuring, but Starfire was not in a state to be calmed and reassured.

"I must hasten to disagree with you, for the circumstances clearly point to a problematic situation. Robin may have found trouble or, worse, trouble may have found…"

"Seriously Star, it's okay," he insisted. "He's not in trouble. He's fine."

"Then…" she took a breath, "why is he not responding?"

"I think … err… I think he was in the medical bay…"

"The medical bay?" Starfire switched back to irate mode. "How can he be fine if he had sought medical attention? What is his condition?"

"I think he was feeling a bit ill… but he said it was nothing serious."

"I shall have to assess this for myself. Thank you for your help." Before he could bid her farewell, she had terminated the call and was en route to the medical facility.

--------------------

"That was … Starfire then?" Robin sounded apprehensive.

"'Fraid so, man," Cyborg stood up. "So I'm outta here."

"I think I shall leave also," Raven made a move for the exit.

"You can stay you know."

"Well," Cyborg pretended to consider his offer, "I would, but there's the T-car, and then Raven's cloak…" Robin raised an eyebrow in a cynical fashion, which he then turned on Raven.

"I've been without my cloak for several hours now," she justified rather frankly. It seemed like Robin would have to face this one alone.

"Okay, see you guys later," he conceded and half heartedly waved them farewell. Now to the pressing issue. What was he going to tell Starfire? Well, the truth was out of the question for one thing. Her feelings were far too fragile for that. Unless… if he could be diplomatic about it, he might be able to kill two birds with one stone. Spare her feelings while remaining effectively honest. All he needed now was an approach.

"Robin…?" a cheery and familiar voice cut into his thoughts.

"Hey Star," he offered a welcoming smile. She returned the gesture and edged closer to the bed.

"I am relieved to see you well. I had been looking for you without success," she took the seat next to the bed. "Then I contacted Cyborg and he informed me that you were here. Once again, I am pleased greatly to find you well," her eyes and voice were laden with concern.

"Well… here I am."

"Yes… here you are," she smiled gently. "What was the reason for your coming here?"

"Erm…" here went nothing, "I think… possibly… one of the ingredients in your breakfast…"

"The glorf worm festival loaf."

"Yeah… that. I think maybe it wasn't cooked properly… or…" he watched her face drop, "or maybe I was allergic or something…"

"Are you sure that was the cause? I prepared the dish as the recipe instructed."

"Well I can't say for certain… but Raven said I collapsed a few minutes after eating it."

"Oh…" she looked down at the bed. "Then perhaps it is true…"

"Don't worry Star," this was not going as well as he had hoped, "I don't blame you for this."

"Well I blame myself. I have given you food to which you are unsuited and the result is this," her tone was weighed down. Robin was starting to wonder if he should have stuck with the original plan.

She stood up and trudged toward the exit. "Wait," Robin called.

"I'm sorry Robin. I have caused this. I will go and consider my actions…" she trailed off.

"No, Starfire, it's…" but she was gone. He slammed a clenched fist on the bed and cursed himself. It could not have gone much worse than that. Would it have been better to have lied to her? Well, that was a pointless debate to have now. The damage was done. The question for now was how to fix it.

--------------------

"Close call, huh?" Cyborg wiped some imaginary sweat from his brow.

"Not really."

"Yeah, but we totally just avoided one of _those_ situations."

"She called you on your communicator. You knew she was coming so you left."

"You mean _we_ left," Cyborg reminded her.

"Okay, _we_ left. My point is that I don't think it's something to be relieved about when we knew what was going to happen, therefore it was not a close call."

"Hmm…" Cyborg scratched his chin. "Actually, I think it still is a close call. If you consider that it's when you avoid some bad event without much time to spare."

"Well, that's…" Raven had to think about this one, since Cyborg did appear to have a valid point. "I would say that, while a 'close call' refers to missing an event, it tends to be used more to imply a degree of luck in missing said 'bad' event." If she sounded authoritative, it might be enough to convince him.

"Aah yes, but how do you know whether I was using it in the original sense or the slang sense?" He grinned smugly.

"You wiped sweat from your head."

"No, I was sweating. We're walking, plus it's quite warm in here anyway. Phew," he fanned his face with his hand.

"It is definitely _not_ warm in here."

"Yeah? You're only sayin' that because you always wear that cloak all the time and now you don't have it, so it's bound to feel colder than usual."

"Whatever." Maybe he had a point there, but that was no reason to let him think he had won. Plus this discussion was starting to veer far from the original point.

"What ever you say, Ray," he smirked at her. She returned with less than impressed shaking of the head. "Hey, that rhymed," he mused happily.

"You're a poet but you were not yet aware of that fact."

"It's 'you're a poet, but you didn't know it' since… oh," he nodded slowly, coming to a realisation. The change in her voice when she joked was usually so subtle that it was easy to miss. "I see what you did there."

"Erm," Raven came to a stop. "Where are we going?"

"I thought we were going to look for your cloak."

"I thought we were going to the garage… I mean since you said you wanted to attend to the car first."

"Oh… yeah…" Cyborg remembered how that had been a fabrication cooked up to avoid looking for the cloak. He was trying to avoid following it through now that Raven was with him. "Well, I mean it's not _that_ urgent…"

"I figured, or else it would have taken priority over bleaching the headlights." He suddenly looked a little pale. Was she on to him?

"Yeah, well… exactly," he smiled. "Besides, since you're feeling the cold so much," he could have sworn she snarled, "we should make it a priority."

"I agree. So where shall we start?" He said a silent prayer that Beast boy was working on the problem.

--------------------

Beast boy was in the right place at the right time. So where was Clara? The bustling masses did make it difficult to pick out any individual, but surely a pretty girl should stand out. How many could there be? One, two, three, four, five, he catalogued some faces and vital statistics mentally. No, wait, he was waiting for a date, this was not a suitable pastime. "Wow, I never knew I had a little Raven running around inside my head," he joked. Shame nobody around heard it, apart from a small boy. "Hey there," he waved at the excited infant. The child waved back enthusiastically.

"Now come on, we don't want to bother him," the child's parent said, dragging him away. Sure, being mobbed everywhere would get inconvenient after a while, but a little adoration would be nice. Well, people had their business to be getting on with anyway, he thought.

"Hmm, where is she?" he tapped his foot on the pavement.

Whistling to himself, he glanced over to check the shop was the right one. He was almost sure it was the one she had said. Besides, it was on the street they agreed to meet on, so why would it not be? Beast boy continued to argue with himself for several minutes.

"Erm, Beast boy?" a recognizable voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"Oh, hey," he tried to conceal a fawning smile.

"You looked miles away," she patted him on the shoulder.

"Oh, I was just thinking…"

"What?"

"Just… err… well just if I had the right place or not," he scratched his head, realising how silly he sounded.

"Heh," she chuckled, "yeah, I think this _is_ the place, since there's only one 'Galena Fabrics' in this city, and it's right on this street."

"I know! That's what I said! … Err… thought…" he coughed, looking into the sky for a convenient distraction. "Look, a giant eagle!"

"What?" she looked up, "where?"

"Oh… I think it's gone now," he shrugged.

"Hmm…" she gave him a suspicious but playful look.

"Okay then," he gave a theatrical sigh, "you got me."

"That's what I thought," she nodded with an air of superiority.

"It was a hawk." She laughed and grabbed his hand with her own.

"Come on," she led, "let's go and fix this mess you made then."

"Mess _I_ made?" he dug his heels a little, meaning she had to lean forward to pull him. "I think you'll find Cyborg was to blame too."

"Oh?" she stopped pulling and stood there with her arms folded. "And how is that?"

"Well…" he looked down at his hands, "umm… he's supposed to stop me from doing that sort of stupid stuff…"

"That's what I thought," she smiled. "Now come on."

This shop looked vaguely welcoming, Beast boy thought as they entered. It was a simple setup, with a number of rows of shelves housing the different fabrics toward the front, with the till at the back. For some reason, he had been worried that it would be just endless giant rolls of carpet and a scary shop keeper who would make him look at carpet sample books for hours. He was not quite sure where he got this image from though. Fortunately, something shiny soon caught his eye. "Hey, cool," he picked up a roll of some red material. "Mmm, smooth," he murmured, rubbing it against his face.

"Ahem," Clara raised her eyebrows, pointing covertly at the shop assistant who was giving him a less than friendly look.

"Oh, right," he placed it back as it was. "Don't worry," he nodded to Clara, "I'll handle this."

"Oh, you'll…" he marched off toward the assistant. "…handle this."

"Hey there," Beast boy wore his most charming smile, leaning onto the counter with his elbow. Few women could resist this classic move.

"Yes?" her voice indicated that this might just be one such person. Still, she looked to be one of those angry, unmarried, middle aged types, so that would explain it. Luckily there was another ace up Beast boy's sleeve.

"I know what you're thinking," he smoothed out his tone and his hair, "and yes, _the_ Beast boy is in _your_ shop." She looked blank. "You know, Teen Titans… when there's trouble you know who to call…"

"Ohhh…" she nodded slowly.

"There you go," Beast boy nodded along. He turned to Clara and winked. It was all under control.

"Yeah, I hate you guys."

"Yeah I know, I… wait, what… how… what now?" he took a step back. The charm offensive was on the defensive. "But …why?"

"Well, you run around out of control, acting like you own the place…"

"We don't act like we…"

"Gallivanting around," she cut straight over him, "fighting the crime you deem important, living an extravagant lifestyle at the taxpayer's expense…"

"Dude, trust me, our lifestyle is not that extravagant," he pointed out.

"You live in a giant 'T' shaped tower."

"Oh…" he felt a little stupid for forgetting that one. "That all?"

"No." This woman was really not friendly. How did she get any custom with this attitude? Or was this just reserved for the Titans?

"What else?" He might as well hear her out. Plus if he could defend them, he might be able to change her mind. On the other hand, he may have just invited her to let loose about something she was clearly angry about.

"Okay," she took a moment to gather her thoughts, or insults, it was hard to tell. "You don't pay any taxes,"

"We're not old enough." Well, he was certainly not.

"You don't go to school,"

"Er, we got home schooled."

"You mix with the rich and famous."

"Yeah, but that was because we were invited…"

"Just a bunch of teenagers with too much power and too much time on their hands if you ask me," she folded her arms as if to conclude her arguments. Beast boy was not going to just sit back and take this.

"Look lady," he wagged a finger in her direction, "we _may_ live in a 'T' shaped tower, we _may_ get some money from the city, we _may_ hang with the mayor from time to time and sure, we _may_ not go to school or pay taxes," she gave him a questioning look. Even he was starting to wonder where his point was. "Well, I mean…"

"He means that they spend their days fighting the people who would hurt you and your loved ones," Clara came in with a fiery look in her eyes. Even Beast boy was a little taken aback.

"Well, there's the police…"

"The police? You mean you trust the police to get the job done?"

"Well, no…"

"Well then. You may not agree with everything they do or their methods, but they get it done and you're safe because of it. Now, blue dye two seven five please," she slammed some money down on the counter. What a performance, Beast boy thought.

"Um… okay," the woman looked and sounded like she had been outplayed. Maybe her opinions would remain unchanged, but she would at least have been left with something to think about. "Blue dye… two seven five… right," she looked down at the money, then back at Clara. "I'll go and get that for you." She waddled over in the direction of one of the far shelves.

"Dude," Beast boy whispered, "you totally kicked her butt."

"I know," she shot him a cool wink, "I hate people like that." He was never gladder to have her on his side.

"You know… after this…" he tried to summon up some courage.

"Two seven five," the woman laid a small plastic package down in front of them. Beast boy would have taken it, but he had become quite distracted with how stubby her fingers were.

"Thanks," Clara pocketed it, the slightest hint of distain in her voice. "Come on Beast boy," she linked her arm with his and strode toward the exit.

"Oh, right," he dislodged his gaze from the oddly hypnotic stumpy finger festival and allowed himself to be led away.

"Well then," Clara stopped outside the shop, "mission accomplished." She took out the packet of dye and handed it to Beast boy. "Try not to lose this."

"Thanks," he tucked it into his pocket, "I'll try my best."

"Well, it's your neck if you don't," she shrugged with a grin. "I'm curious though, what would she actually do to you?"

"Well, I don't think she'd actually _kill_ me as such, since, you know, we're friends and that does buy me some room. I think she'd more likely oof!" he fell forward as someone barged past him. "Hey, watch it!" he yelled. Clara did not yell, Beast boy noticed, instead she just squinted in the direction of the man. "Oh, don't worry about me, I'm fine," he dusted himself off.

"That man… I'm pretty sure I saw him before…"

--------------------

Well well, there we go. It was a slightly longer chapter than usual, but not by much. I wasn't going to rush the ending to keep it within my self imposed word limit, I'd prefer quality as the first order of the day. Anyway, who knows when we will see the next chapter? I certainly don't. Give it two or three weeks. Oh, and if you are reading, reviews are always nice, especially when you tell me what you liked about the chapter, and anything you feel I could improve upon. Mystyre, thanks for your ongoing support.


	6. The taste of superiority

Okay, I posted this on 20/09/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Thanks for those brave few who fly in the face of tradition and continue to support my renegade cause.

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Chapter 06

"So…" Beast boy passed Clara a steaming cup of coffee before taking a seat at the same table, "this guy…"

"Yeah, I'm trying to remember," she patted her forehead with her hand as if it might aid her memory.

"I don't think you should do that in public."

"Huh?" she looked at the hand she had been tapping her head with.

"They might think you're a bit, you know," he circled his index finger around his temple.

"Oh right," she laughed. "Yeah, probably shouldn't do that."

"That's the right one, right?" Beast boy pointed to the coffee.

"Oh, um," she picked it up and blew over the surface before taking a sip. "Yup," she sounded relieved.

"You expected me to get it wrong?" he seemed very slightly hurt by the insinuation.

"Oh, no, it's just that my dad always forgets the vanilla when I go out for coffee with him," she explained.

"Ah right," he felt a bit silly for his reaction, but all was good. "So…"

"So…"

"The man…"

"Oh right," she drummed her fingers on the table. "Yeah… I think…" Beast boy leaned in closer, "I _think_ I've seen him at my house before."

"Okaaay," Beast boy scrunched up his face in thought. Given he knew so few of the facts, he realised his chances of coming to a sensible conclusion were probably quite thin.

"In fact I'm pretty sure of it." She had a serious look in her eye as she took another drink.

"Well, okay. Nobody important then."

"No idea," she shrugged. "My dad deals with all kinds of people."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Beast boy quickly remembered who Clara's dad was. Jump City's very own international criminal kingpin. He should really look into that. He was supposed to be a crime fighter, after all.

"So what did you get?" she asked, looking over at Beast boy's drink.

"Milkshake," he grinned. He could have sworn he just lost a train of thought. Oh well, if it was important, it would come back to him.

"Oh yeah, what flavour?"

"Chocolate," he slurped loudly through the straw he had thought fit to swipe.

"Huh," she scoffed, "chocolate is for chumps. Strawberry is the way forward."

"Oh, I don't think so," he narrowed his eyes. "There's only one way to settle this."

"Yeah I know, by the clear fact that strawberry is superior." He gave her a grudging nod of respect. She was good. But he was better.

"Actually I was going to suggest you getting me a strawberry milkshake and having me taste test both shakes."

"But you already like chocolate better," she raised an eyebrow, having identified the rather obvious flaw in his plan.

"Sorry," he raised a hand to silence her, "but you have to accept the judge's decision."

"So I have to buy you another milkshake, which you don't like, so that you can tell me that chocolate is better?"

"Hey, look, this game has been used to decide these things for hundreds of years."

"Game?"

"Process. This process."

"Hundreds of years?"

"Yup. The … err… ancient Egyptians used it," he bluffed poorly. "Look, do you want to go ahead with this test or not?"

"I'll pass."

"Your loss," he slurped the final remnants of his milkshake. "Aah, the taste of superiority." She smiled and shook her head.

"You know, I've not had this much fun in a while…" she lowered her gaze to the bottom of her cup.

"How about our other date?"

"Oh yeah, that too…"

They shared a fleeting moment and a bashful smile. Beast boy had to admit, there was something about her. She was almost his equal when it came to the humour, but at the same time was able to remain somehow delicate, like a fallen leaf or a fresh snowflake.

He shook his head and fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably. What was he thinking? These were some compelling feelings, but what did they mean exactly? Could she be…? If only he could articulate his thoughts.

"Beast boy," she spoke gently.

"Yeah…"

"I hate to… y'know, but that dye…"

"Oh," the moment crumbled and his regular troubles flooded back. "Yeah, I'd better get back."

--------------------

"Hmm," Robin tapped his pencil against the desk absent mindedly. His eyes slightly glazed as he stared at the computer monitor. Although he was trying to concentrate on his work, his thoughts occasionally wandered back to Starfire and the incident in the medical bay earlier. Should he go and find her? If she knew he was up and about, it might ease her conscience. No, he tried to reassure himself, there were times when a good leader should back off and let those under his or her command figure some things out for themselves. Even so, was now one of those times?

He pushed those thoughts aside for one moment, noting down a series of names from the details on the screen. At least he had been able to find a list of mayoral candidates. "Edwin Johnson, existing mayor," he mentally catalogued the names as he wrote, "Matthew Rhodes, Victoria Daie, Johnson Tespey and Paul Sachowitz." These were the men and women he was about to investigate. It was not yet too late to change his mind, he thought. No, there were times when a leader should listen to those in his team, and Cyborg and Raven were in favour of this. The time for debating this action had passed.

--------------------

"So," Cyborg fell back onto the couch, "where should we look next?"

"Hmm," Raven leaned against one of the kitchen units and folded her arms across her chest. "I was so sure I'd had it last in here."

Cyborg sat forward and took a deep breath. It was not usual, but somehow Raven sounded lost. A pang of guilt in his stomach pushed him toward just coming clean. In all seriousness, she was his friend and he knew what he was doing was wrong. It was her property and she would probably be better suited than them to mend it anyway.

He drummed his fingers on the table. If he did come clean though, he would be getting not only himself, but Beast boy in trouble. While it had been their fault, he at least owed him the option to talk it through. He really did not want to turn this into an issue over which friend he was more loyal to, but it was starting to become hard to view it any differently. Drop Beast boy in it or give Raven what was hers.

Fortunately, there was that other way which side stepped all of this. If things went to plan, the little guy should be returning with the necessary elements any minute. If they could pull this off, everyone would get what they wanted. Raven would get her cloak, more or less as new, and he and Beast boy would come away free as birds. Never mind a credible option, this was the best option for all involved. It was decided. He would put off telling her for now. Should it somehow not work, though, she would have to be told.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to reality. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" he patted her hand in appreciation, "was just thinking about something."

"Anything interesting?"

"Nah, just stuff, you know." She nodded, knowing all too well about how to avoid talking about things that troubled her.

He stood up and examined the room briefly. "So, not here then?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "unless it's really well hidden."

"Yeah." Was that a veiled shot at him? No, it was probably just his guilt making him paranoid. He sure wished Beast boy would hurry up.

"Maybe we should get Beast boy to help," she pondered, "I doubt he's doing anything constructive."

"Actually I think he went out."

"Oh?" She raised en eyebrow.

"Yeah… out with his new girl, I think." Fortunately that was not technically a lie.

"I see," she nodded slowly. "So that's two dates in two days?"

"Yup. I guess he likes her."

"I guess so," she returned her attention to scanning the room, should there be some nook or cranny she missed.

"Yeah, he's been talking my ear off days about her. Clara this and Clara that…" he stopped, realising Raven was no longer listening. She seemed far more interested in a letter she had picked up from the table. "What's that?"

"Nothing," she crumpled up the letter in her hand and started toward the bin.

"Whoa, you're not even gonna read it?"

"I already did," she threw it in with the trash.

"And…?" he pushed for details. It was surely not nothing. "Come on Ray. What is it, fan mail? I bet it's fan mail," he teased.

"Fine," she caved. It was worth it to get him off her back. "It was a job offer."

"A job offer?" he blurted. "From who?"

"The government."

"The government?" he blurted again. And she thought Beast boy's parrot would never be topped.

"Yes, the government," she repeated.

"Well…" he calmed himself somewhat, "what do they want you to do?"

"I have no idea."

"Okay, how much were you going to get paid?"

"Didn't say."

"Right… doesn't sound like much of a job offer to me." He glanced at his feet for a moment. "You're not gonna… take it… are you?"

"Did you just _see_ me throw it in the bin?"

"Okay," he allowed a slight smile of relief.

"You've never had one?" she sounded quite surprised, for Raven.

"You mean a job offer…?"

"From the government."

"Erm," he rubbed his chin, "can't say I have. Wasn't that your first?"

"No."

"Hmm… I suppose they probably have something similar to my technology already," he reasoned, "but they won't have anything like you."

She seemed to be in agreement. "I'm not surprised they're interested in us. We would probably be very useful."

"Yeah," he pictured himself at a fancy party in some foreign embassy, wearing a cool tuxedo and trying to pry information from attractive women. "Might be a nice change of scenery."

"I doubt it," she gave him a cold glare, clearly having different thoughts.

"Nah, I know," he stopped joking, "I doubt doing their dirty work would be much fun."

"Nor would life as a lab rat."

"Yeah, I hadn't thought of that…" That would probably be even less fun than the dirty work, he imagined. Although, Raven did spend most of her time in her room anyway, so she would probably have an easier time of it than most. It probably would have made an amusing joke, although it would be one that would be wiser, and healthier, not to tell.

"Actually," he recalled, "I did have some offers from some tech companies a while back. They wanted me to work in their labs on some pretty cutting edge stuff."

"You sound almost tempted."

"Yeah, well, it would have been interesting for a while. They were pretty persistent too. Letters, phone calls, all that stuff, but I had to tell them that I wasn't interested."

"Even though you were?"

"I was, but as far as I'm concerned, this is the only job worth doing, and I'm happy doing it." Raven felt the makings of a warm smile move through her. She instinctively reached for her hood to cover her face, but found herself clutching at thin air. She tried to disguise this action by moving her hands to comb the hair behind her ears.

"I see," she turned around to face away from him.

"Yeah. I'm surprised the government aren't more persistent. Didn't they even call?"

"No, just letters." She regained her usual composure and turned back to face him. "You think they will?"

"I dunno," he rubbed his chin, "I'd have thought they'd be even more persistent. Do you think BB and Star got then too?"

"Hmm," she played with the hair next to her ear as she considered the question. If they had offered her a position, it would be quite possible that the others could also have received them too. "That would make sense."

Her face slowly changed to reflect a troubling thought. "Some of us may be more tempted than others…"

"…like Beast boy," Cyborg had reached the same conclusion. "He hasn't said anything to me about it though, and I think if he did get an offer like that, he'd be boasting for weeks."

"That's true," she nodded, feeling more at ease. There was no way he would be able to keep his mouth shut about something like that.

"Were there long words in it?"

"One or two. Although that's for me, I imagine he would say there were quite a few."

"Yeah probably," Cyborg agreed. "I'll ask him later."

"If he did, we should consider telling Robin," she advised. It occurred to her that they had never had a discussion about that sort of thing, and that such a discussion was probably overdue. While she was fairly sure how she, Cyborg and Robin would react to such offers, Beast boy and Starfire's reactions were a little harder to predict.

"Yeah, we should probably get together and talk about it."

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Raven decided a short break was in order. "Herbal tea?" she offered, filling the kettle with water.

"Uh? Oh, no thanks," he took a seat and cradled his face in his hands. Raven could barely help but notice.

"Um… is… everything okay?" she moved over towards him.

"I wanted to be a spy too," Cyborg wailed.

"Ugh," she sighed. Boys.

--------------------

Beast boy had decided that the route with the least chance of encountering a certain bad tempered female was from the roof. This was assuming she had not chosen to meditate at that time. Fortunately, Beast boy's luck was in and she was elsewhere. Most likely inside on the hunt for her cloak, he thought.

As he arrived in his room, he was relieved to find that it did not appear that the search had progressed here thus far. Maybe Cyborg had been able to keep her busy elsewhere. Either way, it was definitely a good thing.

"Operation: Don't get sent to another dimension of pain and no Gamestation is on schedule," he reported to his reflection, throwing up a salute. Good thing he had an affinity for thinking up cool names for these things. Maybe he should talk to Robin about putting him in charge of naming their future operations.

Anyway, he set his thoughts back to the job in hand, he should probably consider giving Cyborg a quick call to let him know how things were going. Reaching into his pocket, he hand found nothing but air, and an old, half chewed sweet. Surely he had not misplaced his communicator _again_.

"Oh man, this is getting seriously old," he grumbled, looking around to see if it had fallen nearby. As per his luck, it had not. Could he have dropped it somewhere when he was out? Boy, would that ever be a serious headache. Retracing his steps and searching though garbage bags and the like was not his idea of a good time. Unless… if he could get in touch with Clara, she might remember something. He could use the tower's phone to call her. It was a plan.

Back to the issue in hand though, and he had a dye and a cloak that needed dyeing. Well, the second one on that list was separated from him by a ripe pair of boxer shorts, but compared to the troubles so far, that was nothing.

"Okay then," he psyched himself up as he opened the closet door. The immediate smell threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed through it. A thought occurred to him that maybe it was things like this that were the reason people complained about the state of his room so much. A thought he dismissed quickly. He grasped the offending shorts and heroically cast them onto a nearby heap.

Before retrieving the package, he checked the doorway quickly. It would not have been the first time Raven had been stood at the door as he was doing something incriminating.

The coast was clear.

He dug through the pile of clothes and recovered the bag, thankful to find it was still there. Taking it out of the closet, he set it down on the bed, checking the contents. All was good. Now he had to figure out how he was supposed to apply the dye to the cloak. This might mean having to read something, he realised, even if it was just the instructions on a packet. Still, sacrifices must be made in these situations.

He rustled around in his pocket and pulled out the dye. Examining it, he breathed a sigh of relief. It came with instructions. Now all he had to do was follow these to the letter and nothing would go wrong. Or so he hoped.

"Okay then," he squinted as he read the fine print. "First, launder and dry clothes before dyeing. Dirt and stains will prevent the dye from absorbing into the fabric. Well I can skip that one." The bleach would surely have given it the clean of its life. "Right next… wear plastic gloves during the dyeing process to avoid staining hands. Hmm," he thought for a moment. He was pretty sure he had no such thing, although he did have his regular gloves, which would probably suffice. If he was prepared to have them turn Raven blue, that was. Well, it was them or his hands. "Sorry guys," he kissed his gloves gently, appreciating the ultimate sacrifice they were about to make, "but these are desperate times."

"For the dyeing process," he continued, "fill a bowl with hot water, and place into it the clothing. Then add the dye and one cup of salt and allow the fabric to soak for one hour. Hmm, one hour…" Leaving the cloak around anywhere obvious for one hour while Raven was searching for it would be too much of a risk. If he could borrow a large container from the kitchen, though, he might be able to hide it for that hour. He would need a sneaky hiding place.

"Right," he rubbed his hands together, "the stage is set, the audience are seated, the plan is ready, the con is on." He could get the salt and the container from the kitchen, and the hot water from the bathroom which was down the hall, although he would just have to make extra sure he was not caught. If that should that happen, he would be able to rely on his mastery of fast talking to get him through.

He packed the bag back into his closet and piled up the clothes. It was safe there once; it should be safe there again.

He darted towards the door, checking left and right. No Raven. No problem. "Teen Titans, go!" he whispered.

--------------------

Starfire was feeling depressed. This was not unusual when it came to matters of Robin, for he had the power to make her feel as high as a Tamaranean flying Grinstar beetle, or as low as a Tamaranean burrowing Grinstar beetle with as little as a glance. This time, however, it seemed like more than a passing low. She had managed to convince herself that the earlier incident was all just a misunderstanding, but Robin in the medical bay, that could not be explained so conveniently. Although she was not entirely sure of the particular reason, the fact stood that Robin was harmed due to her actions. She was even now rethinking that earlier incident with a far less positive attitude.

Laying limply across her bed, it seemed like she had lost all energy and motivation to do anything. Even the bright sunlight flowing through the windows did nothing to elevate her spirits. The singing of the birds was just background noise now.

"What should I do now?" she asked of herself. Somehow the options seemed limited. She did not want to go as far as to even consider leaving, but somehow she could not seem to keep from entertaining the possibility.

A firm knock at her door called for her attention. A small spark of life came into her eyes as she allowed herself to hope it was Robin. She summoned up the strength to get up and go over to the door.

"Hey Star." It was not Robin. "You… um… feeling okay?" It did not take Raven's empathic abilities to determine that something was wrong.

Starfire plodded back to her bed and slumped down onto it. "No Raven, I am not."

"Okay," Raven took a seat beside her. Starfire was prone to occasional bouts of depression, especially when it came to all things Robin. She figured it was most likely related to the food incident earlier. Although she was not the best at cheering people up, she could at least offer a sympathetic ear. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Starfire did not raise her gaze from her lap.

"Oh, okay." Raven took the hint and considered an alternative approach. She looked ahead of her, finding the back of the door.

A few moments of nothing but silence and the back of Starfire's door reminded her how entertaining this was not, even given that she had probably wished for peace and quiet in her company on several previous instances. "So I see Robin's back up on his feet." That would have to be her alternative approach.

"He… is returned to health?" Starfire raised her head slightly.

"Uh huh," Raven reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I passed him earlier. He looked fine."

"That is good," she smiled weakly, "but… I am still at fault."

"Starfire, it was an accident."

"Yes indeed, however it was as a direct result of his eating a dish which I prepared. Therefore, even if it was unintentional, my mistake has caused harm to Robin," she concluded with a deflated tone.

Raven could find no fault with her argument, but going over that point would not get them anywhere. Perhaps what was needed was some context. "Star," she started, "how many times have you cooked for Robin?"

"Humm," she pondered, looking to the ceiling. "I think it has been six times this week. Fourteen times so far this month. Seventeen the previous…"

"Okay," Raven was keen to get to the point, "and how many times has he been _seriously_ affected by it?" She stressed the 'seriously' because there was usually some minor effect on the stomachs of anyone who indulged in her culinary creations.

"Just this one time."

"And how many times has Beast boy cooked for Robin?"

"Um… perhaps on six or so occasions this year…"

"And how many times has he been sick because of that?"

"Well, there was that one time where Robin was sick for that night," she recalled. "But Robin did not require medical attention, nor was he unconscious at any stage." Starfire had made another irritatingly good point. How glad Raven was that this was not Beast boy comforting her, for that would have been disastrous. Fortunately, she had a counter.

"This is true, but for how long was Robin compromised in each instance?"

"Well, I would estimate this time Robin was compromised for around two hours, and with Beast boy's cooking it was around seven."

"Well then…"

"But the degree of the compromising was not the same," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but had the alarm sounded, Robin would most likely not have left the tower in this case," Starfire was looking suitably unimpressed, "but with Beast boy's cooking, he would have dragged himself out at half strength and probably been seriously hurt."

"I… suppose…" The dark rain clouds that had been loitering above Starfire's head were starting to clear.

"You should talk to him about it."

"I don't think he would be too willing to…"

"Seriously Star, he told me he was fine with it. He said it was a simple mistake and was worried you'd think too much of this."

"Really?" Her eyes showed that spark that showed the old Starfire was coming back.

"Really," Raven nodded warmly.

"Although I perhaps should go and apologise."

"I think he'd appreciate that."

"Oh Raven," Starfire engaged her in a tight hug, "you truly are a wonderful friend. Thank you for elevating my spirits in a time of most need."

"Urk," Raven gasped as the breath was squeezed out of her. "Too… tight…" she wheezed.

"Oh," Starfire loosened her grip, "my apologies."

"No problem," Raven caught her breath and patted Starfire on the back a couple of times.

"So then," she backed off and looked a little bewildered, "why are you here?"

"Ah yeah, well me and Cyborg were searching for my cloak, and we were passing, so I thought we should take a look in your room."

"Then where is Cyborg?"

"He had to take a bathroom break," she relayed, even more flatly than usual. Clearly Cyborg's priorities and her own were conflicting.

As if on cue, Cyborg made his entrance, a relieved smile spread across his face. "Sorry about that Raven, when nature calls, you know."

"I don't _want_ to know."

"Oh," he could see Raven was in one of 'those' moods again. Starfire seemed to be in good spirits at least. "Hey Star, what's cookin'?"

Raven slapped a hand to her forehead and Starfire's eyes started to well up.

Boy, was that ever the wrong thing to say. "I shall be cooking no more this day," she sniffed.

"Oh no, I didn't mean… I mean what I meant to say was…"

"Good job," Raven sent him a fierce glare.

"Hey, come on Star," he knelt and put a comforting hand on her knee. "You know I didn't mean it that way…"

"It is okay," she composed herself, putting her hand on his; "I know you would not seek to distress me."

"Okay," he smiled, "just wanted to know how you were holdin' up."

"Truthfully I have been better, but thanks to you both," she turned to Raven, "my mood is improved."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Cyborg got back to his feet and ruffled Starfire's hair.

"Please," she giggled, "this is not proper behaviour." It was good to hear her laugh again, even Raven had to admit. "I should warn you," Starfire said, straightening her hair, "that could be considered a personal challenge on Tamaran."

"Oooh," Cyborg backed off, with a mocking panic, "better not do it to Raven then." He edged his hand toward Raven's head in a threatening manner.

"I can assure you, it will be the last thing you ever do," she warned sincerely. Starfire and Cyborg exchanged a knowing smile.

"Okay then, now that's all cool, we got ourselves a cloak to find."

"Yes, Raven did mention this," Starfire stood also, briefly examining the room, "but I do not believe it to be here."

"You sure?" Cyborg scanned the pristine living space. Never mind a cloak, there was nothing out of place. Stupid question, really.

"Quite sure," Starfire confirmed.

"Oh well, at least that's one place off the list, eh Raven?"

"I guess so."

"Oh," Cyborg clicked his fingers, "that reminds me Star."

"Yes?"

"You get any… interesting letters?"

"Hmm," she stepped over toward a chest of drawers. "Do you mean from the 'fans'?"

"No I didn't but… holy moley," his jaw dropped as Starfire opened one drawer which was practically bursting at the seams with letters. "That's _all_ fan mail?"

"Yes, have you not also received such correspondence?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I do get _some_ letters…"

"Don't worry Cyborg," Raven offered a half comforting, half mocking tone, "you'll have to go a long way before you can compete with Starfire."

"Or you," he grumbled.

"I don't get _that_ many."

"The only person who gets more than you is Starfire," he gestured in Starfire's direction, who beamed triumphantly.

"Well I don't ask for them," she murmured. Cyborg was, of course, entirely right. For some reason, the public seemed quite taken with her, as perplexing as that was.

"There are gifts too," Starfire informed them, picking up a small teddy bear from her bedside cabinet.

"Gifts?" exclaimed Cyborg. This was going too far. He wanted gifts too!

"Yes," she held up the bear. "This is Sir Alfred Ramsbottom."

"That's … cute Star." In truth, Raven found it somewhat creepy.

"Yeah, who sent you that?"

"Oh, this was sent by Lindon Allen. He lives at 53 Elmswood Terrace with his wife and three children. He says he wishes to become better acquainted with me and has issued numerous invitations…"

Cyborg and Raven exchanged a concerned look. "Star, how many times has this man written to you?" enquired Raven.

"Forty seven."

"Um… right," Cyborg rubbed his chin, trying to figure out how to put this. "This guy… he sounds a bit…"

"The guy is bad news. Don't have anymore contact with him." Raven was never a great fan of the softly softly approach.

"What? But why?" she gasped, holding the bear closely, struggling to understand their reaction.

"You're gonna have to trust us on this one," Cyborg spoke gently but firmly. This really was quite a serious situation, he realised.

"Well then," Starfire spoke uneasily, "I suppose if you have both come to this conclusion, it is possible that I have misjudged his character…"

"Sorry Star," Cyborg placed a hand on her arm.

"It is okay," she forced a smile, "at least I have his gift."

"Yeah, that's the spirit," he smiled warmly.

"Cyborg, didn't you want to…" Raven prompted.

"Oh yeah, right. We were wondering," he pointed to Raven, "if you had gotten any job offers…"

"Oh, hmm, let me see," Starfire opened another drawer and filed through several more letters.

"You know, from anyone, or the government, or anyone…"

"Smooth," Raven whispered in his ear.

"Well, there were these," Starfire produced ten or so opened letters.

"Can I?" Cyborg extended a hand.

"Yes, of course," she handed them to him.

"Hmm…" he mumbled, sifting through the letters.

"But I never had any inclination to accept these offers…" she trailed off; realising Cyborg's attentions were not with her.

"Don't worry Star," reassured Raven, "you're not in trouble. He just wants to know if you got better job offers than him."

"Oh," she nodded, "but then why should it be of concern if we are not considering taking these positions?"

"I think it's more of a pride thing."

"Oh. I do hope this does not cause him to feel inadequate."

"I think we crossed that bridge."

"Whoa," Cyborg said finally. "Whoa, I mean this is," he looked to Star, "it's … whoa."

"Yeah," Raven agreed, "it might just be…"

"…the whoa."

"No, I mean," he waved the letter in Starfire's direction. "You got TV!" Cyborg's voice lay somewhere between child like excitement and greenest envy. He turned to Raven. "She got TV!"

"You got TV," Raven relayed.

"I… got TV," she responded blankly. "Do you not also have a television set, Cyborg?"

"I mean an _offer_ for a TV job," he explained. This would have been far less frustrating had Raven not been playing dumb for her own amusement. "At Jump City Network One."

"Ooh," Raven feigned excitement.

"Your own talk show, Star!"

"Ah yes, truthfully I do recall reading that letter, but I thought my time would be better spent with my current duties."

"But… your own TV show! Think of the fame," Cyborg emphasised.

"Actually, I think I already have enough of that."

"Yeah… but… TV," he grumbled, moving on to another letter.

"I think," Starfire whispered to Raven, "that Cyborg wishes he had received the offer from the television."

"What gave it away?" she replied with her typical brand of subtle sarcasm.

"Well," Starfire started, "firstly he was very excited that I should have received such an offer. Then, he found it strange that I had not given more consideration to the offer. I feel he placed much importance on it. Maybe I should contact them on his behalf and…"

"Hey, this is it," Cyborg handed a letter to Raven, cutting Starfire off.

"This is what?" asked Starfire.

"Hmm," Raven examined it, "looks just like the one I got."

"Letter from the government," Cyborg answered.

"Oh, well it was quite non specific," she recalled. "So… you have had one too, Raven?"

"Yeah…" she continued to read.

"What do you suppose they have in mind for us?"

"I'm not sure," she folded up the letter and handed it back to Cyborg. "Either way, these letters don't give anything away."

"So, do we talk to Robin?" asked Cyborg.

"I guess so."

--------------------

"So, you know what you're doing?" The gruff voice penetrated the haze of smoke that had settled upon the darkened room.

The only noticeable things in this grimy environment were a large wooden desk and two chairs. One spoke of riches and luxury, the other of the ordinary man. Only a sole light peered through the sole window, dancing through the smoke to provide the only illumination.

"I think so," the second man shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh good… good," the first man grinned widely, "because I'd hate to think you'd let me down."

"Nothing will go wrong," the second man tried to sound confident, but the shiver edging his voice betrayed him.

"It had better not."

--------------------

Well, that's that I suppose. I hope you enjoyed that offering.


	7. Beast boy's room

Posted on 28/09/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Thanks once again to those loyal supporters. Some have been with me since the start, some join now. All are welcome (reviewing gets +10 cool points).

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Chapter 07

Raven and Cyborg made their way down one of the many grey, lifeless corridors that spanned the various sections of Titan's Tower.

Raven wore the face of someone wrapped up in an aggravating situation. Not yet a scowl, but some considerable distance from a smile. While this was nothing far from the ordinary, it might make a task of starting a conversation.

"So, umm…" Cyborg was going to try anyway. "Starfire didn't have it after all then."

"Nope."

"Who'd have thought she'd get an offer to be on TV huh? And her own talk show? Man, if I had my own talk show, I'd invite BB on and talk about what it's like for poor people who don't have their own TV shows," he chuckled.

"Uh huh."

"Phew, tough crowd," Cyborg breathed. "So anyway, where we goin'?"

"Beast boy's room."

"What?" Cyborg's heart came almost between his teeth, "I thought you said you didn't suspect him, and that you were sorry for sayin' it was him." This was not good. He had neither seen nor heard from Beast boy since he left to go and see Clara, which meant he had no clue about how things were progressing. What he did know, however, was that the last place he had seen Raven's cloak was in Beast boy's room. This was going to require some very quick thinking.

"I didn't suspect Starfire either, but we have to check everywhere."

"Are you sure we checked Starfire's room properly? I thought I saw something blue sticking out from under the bed," he lied. If he could only distract her for a little while, he might be able to contact Beast boy and warn him.

"Hmm, well then we'll check there again after we finish here."

Cyborg felt his heart sink as they approached the room. After all that effort and time, was it going to end like this?

No, maybe there was still a chance. He quickened his pace to an agile trot, trying to act as naturally as possible. He soon overtook Raven, who, fortunately, made no extra effort to keep up.

Arriving first, he took the liberty of letting himself in.

There stood Beast boy, cloak in hand, guilty look on face. "Dude!" he yelled, "am I glad to see you! I think…" he was cut off abruptly as Cyborg closed the door.

"Well?" It had taken all of that long for Raven to reach him.

"Uh, you can't go in."

"Why not?"

"Er…" If there was an excuse, any excuse, now was the time. "Beast boy's naked."

"He's _what_?"

"I'm _what_?" came a muffled complaint from inside.

"Yeah, butt naked," Cyborg improvised. "You would _not_ want to see what I just saw."

"He's…" Raven was still a little taken aback, a mixture of disgust and confusion on her face, "just… walking around naked in there?" Sure, Beast boy did some strange things, but this…

"Yeah I know, strange huh, but it means you definitely can't go in there," he made sure to raise his voice for that last part.

"Um, right!" It seemed Beast boy had finally caught on. "I was just taking a shower, and then I came back here, and I put my towel down…"

"I _really_ don't want to know," Raven spoke loud enough to drown out the rest of the excuse. The scrunching of her nose and narrowing of her eyes told that she was trying very hard not to think about what was on the other side of that door.

"So, I guess we can't go in there then," Cyborg shrugged.

"Well, we could if he put some clothes on."

"Um… ah." This was a pickle, no doubt about it. "Hey… err… BB, Raven wants to come in, so maybe you should put some clothes on."

"Umm… actually, I think I'm gonna stay naked for a bit longer," he called out. Raven shot Cyborg a very questioning look. Had she heard him correctly?

"Right," she rubbed her temples, her eyes tightly shut, "well then I'm going to go and meditate for a while. I have to clear my mind in the _worst_ way." She set off at a brisk pace in the direction of her room.

"So shall we keep looking later?" Cyborg called after her.

"I'll talk to you later," she replied, before disappearing round a corner. Cyborg blew out some air, scarcely able to keep the smug grin from his face. Had he really just pulled that off?

"Okay man," he knocked, "she's gone. You can let me in now."

The door slid open to reveal a very grumpy looking Beast boy. "Dude, that was _not_ cool."

"Ah come on man, it got rid of her didn't it?" Nobody was going to convince him that it was anything short of a masterpiece of improvisation.

"Dude! She thinks I was naked! She thinks I enjoy spending time naked!" he griped, exaggerated hand gestures reinforcing his point.

"At least there's a funny side to this."

"There is _no_ funny side to this."

"Oh, there is, trust me," he laughed, thinking of how he was going to tell Robin.

"I'm serious dude! When this gets around I'm never gonna live it down. Every time I walk into a room, it's gonna be, like, 'hey Beast Boy, you didn't have to dress for the occasion'," he moaned.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he took a moment to store that joke for later, "but it was the first thing that came into my head."

"Me naked was the first thing that came into your head?"

"Well, it's… what I meant was that I had to come up with something fast. Be thankful that it worked. And anyway, do I have to remind you that the last time _you_ improvised an excuse, I ended up being in love with some girl I've never met?"

"That was _so_ not the same."

"Yeah, and how is that?"

"Because this happened to _me_!" he wailed.

"Look man, we're equal, so let's leave it at that," Cyborg's stern tone caused Beast boy to grumble a series of protests.

"Fine," he crumbled finally. Besides, if he stayed mad, how could he boast shamelessly about having solved the cloak problem?

"So, err…" Cyborg assessed the articles on Beast boy's bed, "whatcha' doin'?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't tell you about this bit yet," he grinned smugly, stepping over to the bed. "Okay, well you remember our little problem?"

"You're kidding right?"

"I'm just trying to build a bit of suspense. So anyway, remember how we needed the right dye?"

"Yeah, man, I remember," Cyborg tapped his foot impatiently.

"Well guess who got the right dye," he grinned, holding out the dye packet.

"If the answer isn't you, this is gonna be one strange story."

"Well… it is me dude. I got the right dye." He looked slightly hurt that Cyborg had not expressed the grovelling appreciation he had expected, or, indeed, deserved.

"Alright," Cyborg acknowledged, seeing his friend's wide eyed expression, "I'm sure you had to overcome many obstacles…"

"I did! There was this nasty woman in the shop who thinks we're all jumped up losers, and then this man on the street who nearly knocked me over, and then…"

"But," he pushed his way back into the conversation, "you probably saved us a lot of trouble, so …I'm grateful."

"Thanks Cy," he nodded appreciatively.

"So …anyway,"

"Oh yeah," Beast boy returned to his tools of the dyeing trade, "this is the stuff we need for dyeing. We've got this big bowl that I took from the kitchen," he indicated the large container, "that's got hot water in at the minute. Then there's the salt,"

"Salt?"

"Yeah, I know, I dunno what that's about, but it says to have some on the instructions," he tossed the packet to Cyborg.

"Huh, well, whadda ya know," he said, reading the instructions, "salt."

"Yup. So I think that's everything we need."

"Not got any plastic gloves?"

"Nah, I figured he'd just use these," he held up his hands.

"You sure? They'll probably get dyed too."

"We already said our goodbyes," he spoke softly to his gloves. "Besides, I've got like three more pairs. But," he moved his gloves closer to his face, "you're my favourites, no matter what the others say."

"Why don't you just use your hands?" It was the obvious question, Cyborg felt.

"I can throw gloves away. If I get my hands dyed, I can't throw those away. And I definitely don't want them to be blue forever. Plus, talk about a giveaway."

"I doubt that dye is permanent."

"Hmm…" Beast boy considered the alternative. He was never overly keen on wasting a good pair of gloves, but somehow it had seemed like a sensible option at the time.

"And you wear gloves most of the time anyway, so no-one will notice what colour your hands are."

"That's true… but you're sure it's not going to be permanent?"

"Relax," Cyborg reassured, "you can't stain skin, since we shed our old skin all the time."

"What about tattoos then?"

"Well, they're… look, it'll come off soon enough, trust me."

"Fine," he grudgingly agreed.

"Now, pass me that cloak and let's get this done."

--------------------

Roofs clattered as a sharp southern breeze swept a torrent over their flimsy shells. A hazy sheen coated the surroundings, causing glints and echoes to prance to their own rhythm. The moon scarce dare show its face on this night, for its brightness was not a match for the rolling, black storm clouds which lent their fearsome shadow to all.

Raven drew a slow breath, the clean air refreshing her senses. She stepped out from a creaking doorway into the cobbled street, into the wind's throws and battering rains. Her hands tightened around the loose grip she held on her sodden cloak; the whispering gale trying to part her from it.

She could have been anywhere, but she was here.

Making her way down the winding road, the rickety wooden buildings sought to taunt her with their warm, fiery glows. On this path she had chosen, those were invitations that would have to remain unanswered.

Wiping away the droplets that were forming in her eyes and on the end of her nose, she noticed a figure come into focus ahead of her. Propped up against one of the buildings ahead was a cleanly dressed man. His aged face betrayed nothing of his position, being, as it was, devoid of any meaningful expression. Only the glowing and fading ember of his cigarette gave any evidence that he lived at all.

Raven narrowed her eyes, and approached the man. As if his perfect stillness in this storm provided little enough for consideration, he appeared completely isolated from the deluge of rain, which threatened to wash away any and every infirm fixture in its path.

"Who are you?" she yelled, struggling to lift her voice above the whipped up air. "You shouldn't be here."

"You're in trouble, young lady." His voice was almost as a whisper, but cutting through the fracas without effort.

"You shouldn't be here," she repeated, a frail uncertainty exposing itself in her tone.

The figure remained silent.

Raven edged cautiously toward the stranger, holding firm her nerve and wits.

"You're in trouble, young lady," he said again, fixing his gaze on the road in front of him.

"I'm… why?" she cried out, shielding her face from the rain. Squinting her eyes, she attempted to get a clearer view of the man. He was looking at something.

She followed the path of his stare to something in the street. Someone in the street.

Her feet dashed the puddles as she ran to the collapsed figure. Kneeling on the uneven ground, she tried to raise the person with a firm shake. With increasing desperation, she shook again, but the person would not be raised. She looked down at herself, a feeling of confusion and worry creeping up her shivering spine.

"You're in trouble now, young lady," came that all too familiar voice from behind.

Retaking her composure, she combed the drenched hair from her face and rolled the body over. If she could at least identity of this person, it might help her to understand what was going on.

Something clattered to the floor beside her boot. Shifting her position, she reached down to retrieve it. The touch was cold, hard and wet. Bringing it into view, she recognised it instantly. A Teen Titans communicator.

A horrified look came across her face. Could it be…? She reassured herself with a deep breath, and then looked at the corpse's face.

"What the…" she breathed. It was contorted and out of focus, shifting constantly like rain hitting the surface of a puddle. It was impossible to tell who it was.

"Who is this?" she turned and yelled at the man in the doorway with a renewed vigour. "Is it one of us? Is it a Titan?"

"You're in trouble now, young lady."

"Yeah," she sighed and hung her head, "I think I am."

--------------------

Robin had decided that a break was in order. His stomach had been making it rather apparent that he had not eaten anything in several hours. Hopefully, the breakfast he was in the process of creating would fill the void.

As the frying pan spat and crackled, his mind drifted to the subject of Starfire. He was going to have to put aside some time later to go and smooth things over. She was in a vulnerable mood, so he would have to walk on eggshells. If he… no, he was too hungry to start thinking of the details right now.

"Aaah," he took in a lungful of the sweet savoury aroma. If heaven were comprised of forty percent bacon, it would have smelled like this.

He poked over the food with a fork. The bacon was just starting to crisp around the edges, while the eggs were lightly browning on their underside. It was ready.

He slid them onto a plate, where they joined two buttered rolls and a healthy dollop of ketchup, and then deposited the scalding pan into the half filled sink, where it bubbled and hissed furiously.

Sinking into his seat at the table, he took a moment to admire his work. He briefly entertained the thought of capturing it in a photograph for posterity, but that would delay the eating, which was not an option.

Tearing himself off part of a roll, he dipped it in the yolk of the nearest egg. It broke and the golden yellow liquid coated the tip of the morsel evenly.

"Oh yeah," he smiled dreamily as he chewed on the bread. This was what it was all about.

As if his expert preparation had not been enough, this food was flavoured with the best spice of all, ravenous hunger.

He jabbed his fork into a bacon rasher and parted it from its crispy, delicious comrades. Savouring the moment for just long enough to appreciate but not so long as to deny himself, he lifted it to his lips where he… was interrupted by his communicator.

After a moment of deliberation, he lay down the fork. He could probably make this call quick anyway. "Robin here," he said, flicking on the screen.

"Hey Robin, it's Raven," came the response. She was looking a little more ruffled than usual, he noted. "Is… err," she hesitated, "is everything okay up there?"

"Umm," he took a quick look around, "sure, I think. Why?"

"I'm not sure."

"Is everything okay? Do you want me to come down there?"

"No, I'm fine… I'll contact you later."

"Raven? Do you…" he started, but she had gone. "Hmm."

He continued with his breakfast, keeping the call in the forefront of his mind. She had seemed distant and somewhat confused, but if she were in trouble she would surely have said. Besides, she seemed more concerned with his wellbeing than with her own. Either way, something was going on. He made a mental note to schedule a visit later. With that, Starfire and his research, this seemingly quiet day was fast becoming pretty hectic.

Wiping the final smears of ketchup and egg yolk from his plate with a piece of bread saved for that purpose, he gave a satisfied belch. He had needed that.

As he washed the dishes, he played through the conversation in his mind. There was definitely something she was keeping from him. He wiped his brow, unwittingly pasting it with the bubbly froth, resigning himself to the fact that, until Raven was ready to tell him, he was probably not going to know.

Putting his feet up for a moment, he was about to see what offerings the TV bore, when the familiar sound of the door opening drew his attention.

"Robin?" a timid Tamaranean tone ventured.

"Hey Star," he responded, with what he considered to be his least intimidating voice.

"Do you have a moment?"

"Sure." He patted the spot on the couch next to where he was sat.

"Very well," she floated over. She wore that unique Starfire expression whereby any observer could extract the worry through the smile.

"So…"

Starfire shifted her weight anxiously, finding a nervous fascination with her fingers.

"I wish to apologise for my earlier actions," she said finally. This statement caught Robin somewhat off guard, as he had expected that it would be him who would be doing the apologising. "I have over reacted and it has caused an uneasy atmosphere between us."

"There's no need to apologise Star…"

"No, but I believe there is," she said firmly. "I have spoken to Raven and Cyborg, who attempted to reassure me over the matter of the glorf worm festival loaf and your resulting ill health."

"Okay…"

"I have come to realise that, although my mistake did lead to your requiring medical attention, my reaction to that was … a little too much, so I apologise for both, if you will accept my apology…" she cast her gaze away, unsure of what Robin's response would be. She hoped for a good outcome, but was unsure how she might react in the face of a bad one.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly. "It's alright Star, it was just a mistake. Sometimes even a good chef can be let down by their ingredients."

"So," she returned to face him, a small shimmer of hope shining distantly in her eyes, "we are … back to good relations once again?"

"As far as I'm concerned, we never left it," he smiled.

"Oh, that is most glorious," she beamed as widely as was Tamaraneanly possible. "This is a heavy weight off my thoughts indeed."

"Yeah, Beast boy poisoned me far worse than that before," he recalled, almost able to taste those repercussions.

"Truthfully, there is one other issue," she neatened her skirt and reverted to her previous sober tone. "Earlier, there was a discussion about the fact that we were in an unenviable position in this time of electing. Perhaps I am over reacting once more, but I felt that you were not free with your thoughts, and that maybe…"

"Yeah I remember," he interjected, matching her tone, "but I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't really tell you what I planned to do because I hadn't decided myself."

"But… now you have arrived at a decision?"

Robin slowly brushed his chin with his hand. The decision whether or not to tell her, whether or not she needed to be told, was ultimately his. But was he being overdramatic with this? Particularly since there was not really much to tell. Not yet anyway.

"It is okay if you do not feel that you can discuss it," she said, attempting to disguise the hurt that rose with her words.

"No, it's not that," he hurried to make clear his position. His position, he thought. How many times had he not trusted Starfire with vital information? How had he justified it to himself at those times? Okay, sometimes he was involved in things that he did not want to get the rest of the team caught up in, but secrets and lies almost always led to trouble. Besides, this was Starfire, a trusted friend and the most loyal person one could ever have the fortune to meet.

"Okay then," he nodded, as if to firm his own resolve, "you should know. I've decided to look into the people who are running for mayor. Their backgrounds, business dealings, anything I can find."

He observed her reaction as she took in the information. Her brow furrowed and she seemed to consider what he had said very seriously.

"Yet… these people are not criminals, correct?"

"Well no…" He allowed himself a moment to think of how to best present his case.

"They are merely under your suspicion for a crime they have not yet committed and may not ever commit?"

Although he had considered these points before when he had deliberated with his own thoughts, he clearly had not arrived at the same conclusion as Starfire. "But… what about journalists," he reasoned, repeating Raven's point, "they would look into these guys for their news stories. And other politicians too," he added, "they would want to know their opponents."

"But you are neither a journalist nor a politician. You are someone who upholds what is right and good for all of us."

"I know," he sighed. This was never an easy decision in the first place, and not having Starfire with him would weigh heavy on his conscience. "But we're in such a position now. Potential enemies we hadn't suspected before who want us out of the way. I need to know who we're up against."

"I'm sorry Robin," she replied with a touch of sadness, "but I do not see a difference between this situation and how it is for us usually."

Somehow her points were compelling. He had considered them previously, but had brushed them aside, thinking how this was the real world and that those enemies would not use morality like this, so why should he? Besides, what had these politicians to hide? These points were fast renewing his earlier turmoil. Just how many civil rights would he have to violate just to satisfy a suspicion?

"I don't know," he breathed wearily, resting his head in his hands. "It's such a complicated situation, and what if you're wrong? What if there is something there somewhere and we get attacked because we didn't look at it?"

"I may well be wrong, but we have to uphold justice and morality, and all that comes with it. If we do not do this, who will? If you walk down this road now, even if it is only a small step, who can say where it will lead?"

They sat in silence and reflected on the situation. Robin was unable to shake the niggling guilt that Starfire had laid upon him. She was right though, it was a slippery slope from where he was treading. Would he be okay with just violating some rights when it was convenient? Could he argue it away, saying how they no longer had the luxury of sitting back and waiting for the enemy to come to them? As naïve as she could sometimes be, she had a clear sense of when something was wrong.

"You know," Robin laughed wearily for a moment, following up with a deep sigh, "I was so adamant that what I was doing was right."

"Well, perhaps if you thought it was right then you should continue…"

"No, that's the point. I wasn't right. I knew it was grey territory when I started, and I was troubled by it, but I allowed myself to think it was for the greater good. And maybe it is… I don't know…" he began to trail off.

"You must do what you feel is right. My Knorfka once said, 'if you can look at your reflection without shame and sleep unhaunted in your bed, you have made the wise decision'."

"He sounds like a wise kinda guy."

"He is. Very wise," she reminisced fondly, "although I wonder what he would do were he in our situation."

Raven and Cyborg were still in favour of course of action though, he recalled. Changing their attitudes would not be easy. "I'm going to have to talk to the others."

"Yes," she agreed, "perhaps they will be able to offer useful insights."

--------------------

"Okay then," Cyborg dusted his hands, making himself at home on Beast boy's bed, "how long do we wait now?"

"Erm," Beast boy reached for the empty dye packet. "It says let it soak for one hour."

"That long huh?" he stretched his arms above his head and gave a wide yawn before slumping back, resting his head on the pillows.

"Dude!" Beast boy protested, "I've got to sleep on that, you know!"

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on staying that long."

"No, I mean, I don't want it to smell all Cyborgy," he moaned.

Cyborg sat up, preparing to level a suitable defence at his short, green, and incredibly unhygienic friend, when he noticed said friend was trying hard to conceal a smirk with just a hand and some unconvincing acting. "What?"

"Dude, you got a little something," he scratched his cheek with his finger.

"Huh?" Cyborg felt around on his cheek for… something. "Oh gross," he grimaced, peeling one of Beast boy's socks from his face. A very clearly unwashed sock.

Beast boy, naturally, found the event hilarious and now made only a token effort to conceal his mirth. He only wished he could have thought of a good sock related joke.

"Well I'm glad _somebody_ found it funny," Cyborg snorted, tossing the sock to the ground.

"Oh come on dude, you have to admit, that was classic," he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"I ain't admitting anything like that. Besides, who keeps a sock on their bed?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "normal people?"

"No," he replied as would a teacher to an intellectually challenged child, "normal people keep their socks in a drawer."

"Psh," Beast boy dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. "My room, my rules."

"Your room, your smell," Cyborg corrected.

"At least I have a smell," he retorted under his breath. To be honest, he was not quite sure exactly what he meant by that, but he was satisfied that it was insulting enough.

"Yeah, right." Cyborg looked over at their concoction. It was hard to tell whether it was working yet, since everything in the bowl was saturated with that familiar shade of blue. "How are the hands man?"

"Well," he rubbed his blue palms together furiously, "it's not coming off anytime soon."

He took a tentative smell of his hands and recoiled, scrunching up his nose and eyes.

"So it doesn't rub off on anything?"

"Nah," Beast boy rubbed a hand all over his face to demonstrate his point. Cyborg hoped against the odds that this time it would rub off, but it was not to be.

"Oh," something struck Cyborg, "guess what?"

"Umm… there are a group of aliens who duplicated our world two days ago for training purposes. The duplicate world contains a duplicate of Raven's cloak, which we can go and get, only we have to fight off all the aliens as well as evil duplicates of ourselves…"

"No… _no_," Cyborg gave Beast boy one of those 'what the heck are you talking about' looks.

"Okay then, what?"

"Starfire got a job offer…" he waited just a moment before breaking the real news, "for TV!"

"No way!" Beast boy took a step back. "Starfire? TV?"

"Yup," Cyborg grinned proudly, as if his delivering the news allowed a share of the glory.

"Our Starfire?" Beast boy seemed to be having trouble accepting this. TV was like a mother to him, teaching him all he needed to know about the world, and the bright stars were like his siblings. It was a separate world from his 'home life', for the most part, and having Starfire in both places would be hard to get used to.

"Uh huh…" Cyborg nodded again, his patience running low.

"On TV?"

"Yeah man, _our_ Starfire and _the_ television."

"Whoa," Beast boy whispered, finally coming to terms with what he had just heard. "So… like… what network?"

"Jump City Network One, and it was gonna be a talk show, but she turned it down."

"What? Why?" How could anyone in their right mind turn down an offer to be a TV star?

"I guess she considered what we do more of a priority," reasoned Cyborg.

"Man, that would have been so sweet," he said, lamenting what might have been. "She could have invited us on as special guests, and I could have made everyone laugh… and got my own spin off show about animals, or a comedy maybe, or a comedy about animals…"

"Okay dude," Cyborg raised his hand to stop his friend's excited babbling. "Firstly, it's not gonna happen and secondly, a comedy? With you in it? You do know comedy shows are supposed to be funny right?"

"Hey, I'm funny," he defended, taking offence to Cyborg criticising _his_ sense of humour, of all things.

"No, okay, you're right," he raised his hands, "people crack up when they see you all the time."

"Hmph," Beast boy grunted, folding his arms. Ordinarily, he would have thrown something right back, possibly something involving a tin opener and Cyborg's head, but nothing came to mind.

Beast boy stepped over to the bowl and lifted part of the cloak out to see how it was progressing. The colour seemed to be soaking in well, at least as far as he could tell. "So," he plopped it back, "she get anything else?"

"Like job offers… or what."

"Yeah, job offers."

"Yeah, actually. Did you know she got one from the government as well?"

"No way, seriously? Hold on," he stopped for a moment to scratch his chin and look intelligent, "how come nobody else got these offers?"

"Some people did."

"What, you mean…" he looked disbelievingly at Cyborg, who nodded. "Raven got TV?"

"No, wait, I mean," he stopped Beast boy in his tracks, "Raven got a government job offer."

"Oh, cool," he said in a considerably less impressed manner. "Did you?"

"Um… no," he sounded slightly disappointed, "you?"

"Well… I got _a_ letter from some government department…"

"Which department?"

"I don't really remember," he shied away his eyes sheepishly.

"Well what did it say?"

"Um… something about umm…" he scratched his chin a little more, "coming to an arrangement which was beneficial to both parties, and, uh, arranging to meet someone… or something like that."

"Hmm," Cyborg nodded slowly, trying to recall how Starfire's letter had read. Despite Beast boy's vague description, it could have been similar.

"I thought it was the tax man or something," shrugged Beast boy, "so I threw it out."

"Aw man, that could have been important. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Well I don't know," he whined, shifting his stance, "I guess I figured Robin dealt with that side of things…"

"Well, that was probably your job offer," Cyborg surmised.

"Huh… offer of a job for the government…" he grinned, nodding his head as a hundred spy movies came to mind. "Still," he raised his nose, adopting an air of superiority, "I guess they need to look for those people who have all the right qualities. Like charm, good looks…"

"Uh," interrupted Cyborg, "I doubt they were gonna ask you to be James Bond."

"You don't know that. I threw the letter away, remember? Who knows what they wanted from me?"

"When they are coming to _you_ for good looks and charm, we're all in trouble."

"Hey," sniffed Beast boy. "You're just jealous because the government wants me and not you," he boasted.

"Maybe you're right," Cyborg shrugged, "maybe they do want you to be some spy. But do you really think that's what they want?"

"Well… maybe…"

"Or are they more interested in putting you in a cage and finding out how you do your thing, do you think?"

"I guess," he sighed, acknowledging Cyborg's point, "But since I threw away the letter, I guess we'll never know."

"I guess."

"So… what about Robin? Did he get one too?"

"I didn't talk to him about it yet. Actually, we were gonna talk to him about it later."

"'We'?"

"Me and Raven. And I guess you and Starfire now."

"Hmm, I guess." Beast boy slumped down onto one of the cleaner piles of clothes and drummed his fingers on his knee.

Cyborg checked the time. Only fifteen minutes had passed, and already he was bored. "Forty five minutes to go," he said, as much to himself as to Beast boy.

"So what do you s'pose we're gonna talk about?" Beast boy asked, raising his head.

"What, like me and you?"

"No, when we all meet up with Robin."

"Oh. Uhm…" he took a moment and rubbed his brow with his hand. "I guess we'll just talk about the job offers we've had."

"That's it?"

"No, well, I mean I'd like to know who got what offers, and I'd also like to know what we'd do if anyone wanted to follow one up."

"Why, did you want to follow one up?"

"No."

"Did Raven?"

"I don't think so…"

"Well I didn't, and if Starfire turned down TV and the government, I'd say she wouldn't," he concluded. "That only leaves Robin."

"I'm not sure what you're tryin' to say BB, but I just want to make sure everyone knows what's what when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Uh huh…" Cyborg gave his friend a suspicious look. He was not sure what he was insinuating, nor did he much care. When they got together to talk about it, Beast boy would hopefully come to realise it was as he had said.

"So…" he decided a subject change was in order, "how was Clara?"

"Oh, she was cool, as usual," Beast boy breezed, trying but failing to keep a foolish smile from his face.

"That good huh?"

"Well, I don't want to brag, but things are going pretty well."

"Oh yeah? Maybe you'll have to bring her over to the tower sometimes and introduce her to the folks. If she's real," he taunted.

"What do you mean if she's real? You _met_ her."

"Oh no, I met one of many fans for a few moments on that red carpet, and saw some letters," he pointed out.

"You saw her picture!" fumed Beast boy. He was sure Cyborg was just trying to wind him up now, but it was certainly working.

"I saw _a_ picture," he grinned.

"Fine then, I'll bring her over, and then you'll see she's completely normal." He realised only too late that he had been expertly played. Now he was going to have to actually get Clara over to the tower, or Cyborg would never let him hear the end of it.

"Completely normal huh?"

"Yeah," he locked eyes with Cyborg.

"So your strict criterion for dating a girl is that she has to be 'normal'?"

"Yeah. I mean no. I mean… hey, you're twisting this!" He had walked straight into that one.

Cyborg lowered his head and chuckled to himself. Mocking Beast boy could be a virtually limitless source of entertainment.

"Hey," Beast boy called, not liking being laughed at, "at least I know the girl I like, unlike you."

"Yeah, well that's only because you set me up," he growled.

"Well that's not what everyone else thinks," he shrugged, keeping a calm but somewhat cocky tone. He was playing Cyborg at his own game.

"Well at least I don't walk around naked!"

"I don't!"

"Well, that's what I heard from Raven. She seems pretty sure about it." The advantage was back with Cyborg.

"Well, at least I didn't wipe my face on Raven's cloak. I mean, did it look like a napkin?"

"This coming from the one who put it in a bowl full of half eaten tofu. I mean tofu! Nobody likes that stuff!"

"_I_ like that stuff," he pointed his thumb to his chest, maintaining a defiant gaze. "And at least you don't have to kill animals to get it!"

"Hey, you don't have to try and make me out to be some kind of…" Cyborg began with a deep indignance, but was interrupted. He was beeping, as was Beast boy. It was the alarm.

"I guess we'll continue this later."

"What about…" Beast boy nodded over to the submerged garment.

"Leave it," commanded Cyborg. "Raven's gonna be out with us, so she won't be looking for it."

"Okay. I'll just get my gloves."

--------------------

Well, that is that, as they say. I hope you enjoyed reading it. If you have some thoughts, please let me know in a review. If you had no thoughts of any kind, I warn you that you may just be a zombie.


	8. Anything suspicious

Posted on 11/10/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not on the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Well, let's see how you rate this one.

--------------------

Chapter 08

A frosty acknowledgement from Robin greeted Beast boy and Cyborg as they arrived at the briefing, clearly behind schedule.

"So, what's the situation?" Cyborg asked, marching down toward the large screen.

"We have had an emergency call," replied Starfire before turning to Robin to allow him to summarise the situation.

He nodded to her and continued. "It's in the warehouse district. The report said something about an attack. That's it."

"That's _it_?" Cyborg looked around at the others, wondering if any of them were as baffled as he was.

"Yup," said Raven. No bafflement, no reaction.

"It's unusual," agreed Robin, "but it's still a call for help, and we can't ignore it."

"Okay man," he nodded slowly. Robin was right, of course. There was no question of ignoring it in any of their minds, but a little voice in Cyborg's head was keen to ask questions. Was that _all_ the information they had received? Still, answering the call was the priority, so questions could wait.

"I call shotgun," yelled Beast boy, already making his way to the exit.

"Aw man," Cyborg moaned. Beast boy in the front seat was never a good idea. Slobber, fur, disaster zone.

"Sorry Beast boy, but I'm going in the front on this one," informed Robin.

"Aw man," Beast boy stopped in his tracks, his pointy ears drooping. Normally, he would have argued. After all, the rule of shotgun was one of the many rules that held together the fabric of society, but when Robin was in business mode, arguing with him was both unwise and futile. He was the leader, after all.

"So I guess we're takin' the car," concluded Cyborg.

The Titans started to make their way toward the exit, faces becoming stern as they considered the uncertain mission that confronted them.

"Come on, man," Cyborg said, slapping Beast boy on the back. He had been carrying his feet rather heavily and Cyborg felt he could do with a boost.

"…but I wanted to go in the front," he complained.

"Don't worry about it," reassured Cyborg.

"Yeah well, you don't know what it's like," explained the miffed Beast boy as they left the main room and turned down into the corridor. "You always get to sit in the front."

"Of course I do," he stated with a degree of the obvious, "it's my car."

"Well then, you don't know what it's like to sit in the back with Starfire and Raven. Starfire bounces up and down if she sees pretty much anything, and you can't touch Raven because she'll get mad at you. I mean how am I supposed not to touch her at all if we're sat right next to each other?"

"Couldn't tell ya man. Oh, hey," he prompted Beast boy to hurry as he saw the others waiting in the lift. Their faces clearly showing that, at times like these, patience was far from a virtue.

As the lift descended, there was a clear silence, bar one sigh, Beast boy's all but silent protest against his car positioning.

"So," Cyborg broke the silence, "do we know which warehouse?"

"Looked like it was near K-17," replied Robin, his uncompromising gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Which way do ya wanna take in?"

"Hmm," Robin dropped his eyes to the floor. It would be a key tactical decision undoubtedly, but the sparse information would render any such judgement basically guesswork.

"If we come from the south side, we have the best chance of surprising them," Cyborg proposed.

"If it's K-17, and if there is a 'them'," added Raven.

"Yeah, _if_," Cyborg cast her a look.

The elevator jerked awkwardly as it came to rest on the ground floor. A few eyebrows were raised in Cyborg's direction, but nothing was said.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do," Robin stepped out first, leading the way to the garage. "Cyborg,"

"Yo."

"You're going to park about two hundred metres from K-17 on the south side. Make sure we're as hidden as possible."

"Okay."

"Starfire?"

"Yes?"

"When we arrive, you're going to take to the air and do recon. First thing we need to do is find out what's going on."

"Understood," she acknowledged firmly.

"Raven."

"Yeah?"

"You take the ground route. Starting at the warehouse closest to us and moving in the direction of warehouse K-17, go through the walls and explore the inside of each building."

"Okay."

The door to the garage slid silently open and they marched through.

"But," Beast boy spoke up, "what about me?"

"I didn't figure you in the first stage," explained Robin, to Beast boy's dismay. "So you, Cyborg and me will lay low until we hear from Raven or Starfire."

"Okay then," agreed Cyborg, leaning slightly to unlock the car door.

"Right then, so everyone knows what they're doing?"

"Yup."

"Yes."

"Mm hmm."

"I guess…"

"Okay," Robin slipped into the passenger side, turning to Cyborg. "Let's go."

--------------------

"So you all know what you're doing?" A silver haired, black clad military officer barked at a seated group of soldiers.

"Yes sir!" They all replied in unison.

"Okay, dismissed," he instructed, turning from them to examine the whiteboard behind him, on which were several detailed diagrams.

He studied it for a moment, letting out a deep breath.

"Hey, Jameson," a lanky, long haired soldier tried to raise his comrade with a little more than a whisper.

"Hey, what's up Ramsey," the broad, grizzled looking man flexed his shoulders as he ended an uncomfortably long period of being sat down. The distinguishing scars on his face and cropped hair cut would have left him unsuited to most other occupations.

"You…" he turned his head to watch one of his fellows as he moved out of earshot. "You okay with this?"

"I guess," he shrugged, lowering his voice in line with Ramsey's. "It's not like we have much of a choice."

"Yeah but… what did those guys do wrong? I only ever heard of them doing good things…"

"Oh come on man," Jameson's voice took a patronising turn, "you don't really think there are any people who are good _all_ the time surely."

"Maybe, but what bad things did they do?" he repeated his question.

"Look, you heard Hamilton, it's national security. It's need to know, and we don't need to know, we just have to do what they tell us."

"So what…" argued Ramsey, "you think the government are right all the time now?"

Jameson shook his head and chuckled. "No, I don't, but I do know that they put food on my table. So I gotta do what they say. Truth is, we'll probably never know why they want us to do what we do. Besides, if we didn't, they'd just get someone else who would."

Ramsey nodded, grudgingly accepting the point. "Alright," he slapped his friend on the back, "I guess I'll have to get myself used to it."

"Don't worry," he cracked a smile, "it gets easier with time. Now let's move out."

--------------------

The T-car's engine rumbled like a distant storm as the Titans made their way through the early evening streets of Jump City. The dusk haze settled like large sheet, wrapping the buildings in that low, dying sunlight glow.

Starfire gazed dreamily at the brilliant oranges that reflected from the high rise buildings, mirroring the hidden sunset. "It is a pleasant evening," she said to herself.

"Yup," came Cyborg from the front. "Too bad we're on duty."

"Yeah," agreed a relaxed Beast boy, his arms folded behind his head and eyes half closed. Despite the knowledge of a tense situation ahead, the atmosphere had mellowed somehow. Maybe it was the time of day, or the lazy, warm bliss of the fading sun. Even Raven bore that distant gaze of rapture.

"Don't get too comfortable," Robin said, leaning his head between the two front seats. The three placid figures in the back seat gave vague acknowledgements, but were otherwise unfazed. He turned back to face the front, allowing himself a wry smile. _That_ was his well trained, loyal set of comrades, at whose side he had torn down the darkest forces and battled untold terrors. But he knew they would be ready when the time came.

--------------------

The black truck's engine growled like a caged animal as it made its way through the back streets of Jump City.

No light permeated the hull, and artificial light was all that Ramsey had the pleasure of. That and his all but silent unit, which sat in two inward facing lines. The older commander was stood toward the steel mesh that separated the driver from the soldiers, enjoying a thin cigar and running things through in his mind.

"It's a nice evening out there," came the familiar voice of Jameson, who was sat opposite Ramsey.

"Yeah," Ramsey agreed, rolling his helmet in his hands.

"Too bad we can't enjoy it huh?" a weasily looking man to Jameson's left jabbed him with a playful elbow.

"Shut it, cripple," he returned, pushing the smaller man away.

"Hey! That's Cropple," his voice rose. He hated it when people called him that.

"Hey Cropple!" called Hamilton from the front. "Don't start getting too comfortable around Jameson or everyone'll think you're sweethearts."

The unit erupted with a roar of laughter and jeering in their direction. Cropple scowled and sank back into his position, folding his arms. Ramsey and Jameson exchanged a glance of veiled amusement before Jameson proceeded to hit back with various shameful tales of the others.

"Alright, quiet down," ordered Hamilton.

He savoured another lungful of thick smoke and shook his head. _This_ bunch of hyenas was his unit. He wished he had been given more time to prepare them, but then this job was rarely to procedure. Still, that was _his_ job, to make sure that they did _their_ job, and that was what he was good at. Only time would tell now.

--------------------

"Okay, anyone?" Beast boy looked around hopefully. "Come on, there's loads. Cyborg begins with a 'c'. So does car, and, look," he pointed toward the front, "cloud."

"I have one," said Raven, the only one who seemed to be dignifying him with a response.

"Yeah, what is it?" he lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

"Clown." She extended her arm and pointed to Beast boy's face.

"Yeah, 'cos clowns are funny," he retorted.

"Not this one."

Cyborg and Robin shared a snigger at Beast boy's expense.

"Psh," he shrugged, turning to Starfire. "You think I'm funny, right?"

"Oh, what?" Starfire looked back from the oddly shaped cloud she had been following.

"You think I'm funny, don't you?"

"Umm…" she raised a finger to her chin and considered his question.

He leaned closer, a hopeful expression pressing for a favourable answer. "I suppose your unorthodox appearance would cause some to take amusement."

"Aw man," he moaned, folding his arms across his chest and sinking back in his seat. "I totally _am_ funny," he mumbled.

"Okay guys, we're almost there," informed Cyborg.

"Okay then guys," Robin said, leaning back to address those in the rear, "you're all clear on what you're doing?"

"Yes," replied Starfire, "I am to fly above and survey the area."

"Raven?" he prompted.

"Check out the buildings between here and warehouse K-17."

"Right. Beast boy, Cyborg?"

"We stay with you at the car until we hear anything."

"Okay then," nodded Robin.

The car came to a stop outside a large grey brick building. It was one of many similar looking warehouses in the immediate area.

The sun was already starting to surrender; the shadows starting to grow. Robin had hoped that they would be able to complete the job before nightfall, but that was starting to look less likely.

"K-17's up there," Cyborg said, pointing between two of the buildings to the left.

"Okay, Starfire, Raven…"

--------------------

"…Rothman and Burts, you're also on the east entrance," instructed Hamilton.

"Yes, sir."

"Hawkes and Reese, you join the south team."

"Sir."

"Okay," he nodded, "The rest of you are taking perimeter positions like we discussed in the briefing. Markson!" he yelled at one soldier who seemed to be distracted by other matters.

"Sir!"

"Pray tell me what your role in this operation will be, if you remember."

"Um," his eyes started to shift, "perimeter position two beta?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" barked Hamilton.

"Telling you sir! Perimeter position two beta, sir!"

"Okay, good. We'll be there shortly so get yourselves ready."

"Hey Jameson," Ramsey called to his comrade over the hubbub.

"Yo, what's up?"

"Where's four delta?"

"Look man," he leaned forward, closing the distance so he could communicate without anyone else being able to hear, "we do _not_ wanna screw this up."

"I know," he acknowledged, his voice starting to betray panic, "but I still don't know where it is."

Jameson sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Alright. See Preswick?" he turned and pointed out a tall, dark skinned man who appeared to have neglected to shave in some time.

"Yeah."

"Okay, you want to follow him. Your position is in a doorway about ten feet to the right."

"My right or his right?"

"His right."

"Okay," Ramsey gave a sigh of relief and smiled at his colleague. "Thanks."

"Just… remember your training, okay? And try not to get hurt."

"Hey," Cropple leaned in to join the debate, "what are you ladies talking about?"

"Get lost Cropple."

"Okay then," he smirked, "I'll leave you two lovers alone."

"Yeah whatever," dismissed Jameson, "write it in your next letter to your mother."

Ramsey looked at the floor and tried to hide his laughter.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, rookie," jabbed Cropple scornfully, "you just worry about not shooting us in the back when we go in."

"What did you say?" Ramsey locked eyes with Cropple, issuing a clear challenge. Follow up or pipe down.

"You heard me…" he sneered, his cold blue eyes showing no signs of retreat.

"Alright fellas," said Jameson as he positioned himself between the two. "We don't need to start fighting each other."

Cropple looked Jameson up and down for a moment, his derisive visage appearing to consider if he could take him.

"Fine," he waved them away. "Let's save the heroes for the field."

"Don't go getting' yourself into trouble man," cautioned Jameson to Ramsey.

"But that guy…"

"Never mind him, you just worry about what you gotta do."

"Alright men, settle down." Hamilton stepped forward as the truck started to slow, "we all know what we're doing right?"

"Yes sir," replied the squad.

"Okay, now remember, weapons on stun. We're not here to kill anyone. Harris!"

"Sir?"

"Let's go."

"Sir!" Harris cranked the handle down, causing the rear doors to swing open with a metallic whine.

"Okay, move out!"

--------------------

The blissfully warm evening air whipped and chopped past Starfire's body, gracefully caressing her sleek form. Dancing through the skies at high speed, the exhilaration surged through her, putting a volcano in her stomach and an arching beam of a smile across her face.

The harsh reflections from the roofs of the buildings forced her to shield her eyes with her hand as she surveyed the area. From the air, it was a matrix of uniform structures, stretching off in all directions. Had she not been concentrating, it would have been easy for Starfire to have lost her bearings.

Observing the area around the target warehouse as best she could, there did not appear to be much activity at all, let alone anything suspicious. There were a few people and vehicles performing routine tasks here and there, but nothing that sounded an alarm.

Reaching into her pocket, she picked out her communicator.

"Robin? Come in please," she attempted to raise her voice to compete with the whistling winds.

"Robin here," came the reply, "anything to report?"

"I have seen nothing to raise my suspicion as yet," she said, trying to keep the wind from throwing her hair over her face.

"Hmm… okay. Keep looking for now. Contact me if anything happens."

"Very well, Starfire out."

--------------------

Raven leaned slowly around a corner, investigating some voices she had heard.

"So what are you doing after this?" said one young man.

"You've even thinking about that? We don't get off for another five hours," laughed his older colleague.

"Yeah well, I started clock watching about twenty minutes ago… hey, did you hear something?"

Raven pulled back, trying to smother the sound of her communicator on her stomach.

"I definitely heard something," the second man said, and proceeded towards Raven's location, the loud echoing footsteps like a timer for a speedy departure.

She considered her options. To get out of the building, she would have to go through the wall opposite, and risk detection, or she could go through the wall behind her, even though she did not know where that lead.

"Oh well," she whispered to herself, placing her hand flat on the wall to her rear, "here goes nothing."

Raven came through into a store room and thanked her luck. Then she answered her call.

"Hey Ray, how's it goin'?" asked Cyborg.

"This was _supposed_ to be a stealth mission," she growled in a low voice, half watching the screen and half watching the room's entrance.

"Hm," Cyborg considered her point. "You know there's a vibrate mode on our communicators right?"

Raven raised an eyebrow. Actually, come to think of it, she had been told that. This was embarrassing.

Cyborg smiled and shook his head. "Raven, Raven, Raven, what _are_ we gonna do with you?"

"How about saving the lectures for a more appropriate time?"

"Yeah, right. So how's it goin'?"

"Okay I guess," she whispered, "I completed the first building and moved on to the second, which is where I am now."

"Okay. Anything suspicious?"

"Not yet. Did your scanners pick up anything?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Alright, keep us posted."

"Fine. Raven out."

--------------------

"Well?"

Cyborg flipped down his communicator. "She's got nothing."

"Hmm," Robin leaned back on the car, contemplating the situation.

The night was starting to crawl its way over the city, stretching the sun's shadows until they were just a passing memory. The temperature was starting to dip, rendering each breeze a chill rather than a pleasant refreshment.

"Dude," Beast boy rubbed his hands together, although more as an act of expressing his displeasure with the climate as opposed to the generation of heat since, as all could see, he wore gloves.

"Want to get in the car?" suggested Cyborg.

"Nah, I'm not cold," he declined casually, beating his chest with one fist. In honesty, it was tempting, but he did not want to appear the weak one.

Cyborg paced up and down, inspecting the alleyway they had pulled into to try and conceal themselves. It served their purpose, but it was grotty and dirty, a back alley for waste and rubbish bags. No place for his car to spend any amount of time.

"So…" Beast boy started, leaning on the car next to Robin.

"So…"

"It seems pretty quiet out there."

"Yeah, it does," replied Robin, visually assessing the areas in his line of sight.

"Shouldn't we just… go in?" he shrugged, presenting an honest suggestion.

"We will, just as soon as we're sure of what's going on."

"But… what if someone's in trouble? Or hurt?" Beast boy had learned to trust Robin's judgement in these situations, but often at the time, as now, his decisions could be difficult to fathom.

Robin turned his attention to his concerned friend and colleague. "I have thought of that, but what more information will the three of us get over Starfire and Raven?"

"Well… not much I suppose…"

"Trust me, the minute any of us hear or see anything suspicious, we'll move, but I don't want to start alarming people when I don't need to."

"Okay." Beast boy's mind was set at some ease. One point was still on his mind, however. "But what about the alarm call? Don't you think it was strange?"

"I've been thinking about that too. It is rare for us to get a false alarm, but it's not unheard of. As for the sketchy information, well, that's something we can worry about after we get back."

Beast boy smiled and upped himself from the car, stretching his arms out. "Well, something had better happen soon or my body's gonna fall asleep."

"Better not do," said Cyborg, returning from a turn around the alley.

"Don't worry," Beast boy reassured, patting his friend on the shoulder whilst stifling a yawn, "I'm ready any time."

"Uh huh."

--------------------

"Alpha Six, Alpha Six, requesting status update."

"This is Alpha Six, three minutes from position."

"Roger that," crackled the reply in Ramsey's ear. He was in a slightly hunched position, clutching his weapon to his chest, moving as swiftly after Preswick as he could. In reality, three minutes was something of an estimate, but based on his recollection of the briefing it had to be somewhere less than five.

Ramsey stopped dead, mirroring Preswick. He held up one hand open, indicating those behind him not to move. Ramsey held his ground, scanning the area anxiously. Had Preswick seen something out of the ordinary?

"Alpha Fourteen…" Ramsey started, unable to wait any longer.

"Flier," came Preswick's voice over the radio as he swiftly backed against a wall. Ramsey followed suit, looking to the sky.

"Alpha Fourteen, location of flier?"

"About sixty feet north east of the target."

"There," whispered Ramsey to himself as he saw the small, dark silhouette darting around above.

"Are you compromised, Alpha Fourteen?"

"Negative, target has not seen us."

Had Ramsey not been wearing his helmet, he would have wiped sweat from his brow. Even so, he did it anyway, even if just as a psychological action. He was not exactly sure how Preswick knew they had not been seen, but he figured it was the best guess, given how high the target was, the lack of reaction from the flier, and their relative camouflage.

Preswick gave a final check and proceeded back on track, signalling Ramsey to follow. Ramsey gritted his teeth and tightened his grip around his gun, daring not spare a thought for what might happen should they be seen. He picked up his heels to keep up with the soldier in front, both pressed to make up for lost time.

As he moved, Ramsey was becoming acutely aware of how warm it could get in this helmet. For all the money spent on gadgetry and making them light weight, somebody seemed to have skipped a thought when it came to comfort.

Reports filtered in over the radio channel of units arriving in position. Hearing Jameson, or Alpha Seven, was ready, meant the main part of the operation was okay to go. He was joining the more experienced members of the squad, who would be performing the most important role.

Preswick stopped again. Ramsey almost involuntarily looked up. "Alpha Fourteen in position," he signalled, shoring himself against a brick wall.

There was the doorway, Ramsey noticed, as promised. It was a good position, providing a solid defence while allowing good coverage of the target.

"Alpha Six in position," he announced, scurrying into his place. It was a little dark, and not exactly comfortable, but he did not really have much time to spare thoughts on that subject. Of more concern was the possibility of someone coming out of the door and spotting him. Still, he had to keep his eye on the target. He had to focus.

"Okay," Hamilton's voice came over the radio, "we have everyone in position. Is anyone not in position?"

Silence.

"Okay. Everyone knows the drill. Nobody moves until I give the signal."

Ramsey took a deep breath and steadied his aim.

--------------------

Raven shielded her nose, scanning a huge room which held blue plastic barrels in stacked rows. As noxious and unpleasant as the substance within undoubtedly was, it was not cause for concern.

"Robin," she flicked open her communicator.

"Robin here."

"This one's all clear."

"Okay."

"K-17 is next. Should I go in?"

"Not yet. Wait in the alley between the buildings. We're going to move in to join you shortly. Tell us the second anything happens."

"Okay, Raven out."

She took one last look around before heading toward the building's outside wall. Thinking about this investigation had kept her mind occupied. What was she going to find? Was she even going to find anything? Every now and then, however, her thoughts did return to the vision she had experienced earlier. Obscure thoughts and even dream like states were not uncommon in a deep meditation, but this… somehow this one was different. So vivid, so real. Could it have meant something? If so, what? It definitely warranted further thought, but that would have to wait until she got back to the tower.

She passed through the wall into the street between the two buildings. Night was really starting to creep up now, but was being held steadily at bay by several artificial lights which provided a dim haze of illumination.

Her head swiftly turned to catch what she thought was a person scurrying round a nearby corner.

Breathing heavily for a moment, she settled herself. "Nevermind," she muttered. That could have been anyone.

--------------------

"Okay, we're going in," decided Robin.

"Okay dude," said Beast boy, lifting his weight from the car, "what did Raven say?"

"She's there now. She didn't find anything yet."

"Right, and what did Starfire say?" asked Cyborg, who dusted down the car where Beast boy's behind had been stationed.

"She's meeting up with Raven. They'll wait until we get there, then we're going in together."

Cyborg nodded, while Beast boy looked precariously down the alley. "We're going that way?"

"Yeah," replied Robin. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," he gulped. It looked dark and rather unforgiving down there, Beast boy thought. One light in particular seemed to have a problem and flashed intermittently, turning static shadows into moving beasts, perhaps zombies.

"Scared of the dark, B?" Cyborg scoffed, nudging his short friend.

"Naw," said Beast boy, shaking the shake from his voice and puffing out his chest. "If anything, the dark's scared of _me_."

"Whatever, come on little man."

Cyborg slapped his friend on the back and moved ahead to join Robin. Beast boy watched his friends moving down the creepy alley and weighed up his options. Sure, that way was scary, but if he was here alone, whatever was out there would get him for sure. "Hey, wait up guys!" he yelled, giving chase.

--------------------

Raven rubbed her hands together vigorously, trying to keep the cold at bay. It may not have been incredibly cold, but being cloakless was making her realise how much of her body was exposed to the elements. "I really should have worn a coat," she said to nobody in particular.

She crept up to the corner and leaned round. She was starting to wonder what was taking the others so long. Then again, she thought, maybe it was her perception of time that was playing tricks on her. After all, they say time passes more quickly when one is enjoying oneself, and she was most certainly not enjoying herself.

She let out a sigh, watching her breath turn into steamy vapour and disappear in the night air. At least it was quiet.

A hand on her shoulder startled her from her musings. She whipped round, ready to turn whatever it was into some kind of sea slug, or perhaps to make a swift departure, when she saw who it was.

"Hello friend," whispered a smiling Starfire.

Raven put her hand on her chest, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. "Don't startle me like that," she reprimanded. She had considered saying 'don't scare me like that', but, of course, she did not get scared.

"Oh, I apologise…" said Starfire, looking quite unsure of what to do.

"Hm," Raven sighed again, "don't worry about it."

"Okay, I shall not," she smiled once more, shrugging off the tension of the situation easily.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going to go back with Robin and the others."

"Um, well yes, I was going to do that, but since I was already closer to you, it seemed more sensible to come here."

"Oh right. Well, maybe you should have let me know…?"

"Very well," she nodded in a sober manner, "I shall endeavour to call you next time."

"Next time?"

"Mm hmm," she nodded again.

"Riiight. So, did you see anything?"

"There were many things…"

"Anything _suspicious_."

"Oh, hmm," she pondered, "well, I saw nothing of the villains we know thus far…"

"No gun toting maniacs?"

"No, I did not see anyone of that description either, although my vision was somewhat obstructed by the sun's reflections on the roofs. Then it got dark and my vision was obstructed by the darkness."

"Yeah, that figures. Okay, well I guess it's safe then."

"Did you also not find any criminals or gun totalling maniacs?"

"No, no _totalling_ maniacs."

"Very well," Starfire looked around, taking a dim stock of their rather grotty location. "So, are we to wait here?"

"Yeah. The others are on their way."

"Oh no," came a familiar voice from around the corner. "The others are _here_," announced Cyborg, stepping into view. Robin and Beast boy were close behind.

"Glad you could make it," greeted Raven, in her own aloof kind of way.

"So now we are all together again," chirped Starfire, smiling widely.

Robin looked up at the building, then down the alley ways to each side, assessing the situation. The exits were limited and all the doors he could see were closed. In addition, there were no obvious signs of a disturbance.

"Too quiet," whispered Beast boy with the best creepy horror film-esque voice he could muster.

"It was until you got here," replied Raven with a gaze, displaying an almost painful lack of amusement.

"He's right though," cut in Robin, preventing the bickering from escalating. "It _is_ almost too quiet."

Beast boy shot Raven a smug grin, raising his eyebrows with a clear 'I told you so' face. She gave her best effort to ignore his existence.

"No signs of a crime or a getaway," he continued.

"Almost like nothing happened at all," suggested Cyborg.

"Or someone covered their tracks very well," Raven pointed out.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said Robin, looking in the direction of the front entrance.

"We're not all going in the front are we?" asked Beast boy incredulously. "It's bound to be a trap."

Raven shook her head. It would take a great many minds a long time to figure out Beast boy.

"No. Cyborg, you come with me in the front. Beast boy, you take the back and Starfire, you take the roof entrance, if you can find one."

"And if there is no such entrance?"

"Then you join Beast boy."

"Very well."

"And me?" enquired Raven.

"You can make your own way in."

--------------------

"Eagle three has them on their way."

"Positions?"

"Unit C heading to skylight. Units A and D taking the front. Unit E taking the rear."

"What about Unit B?"

"Unit B was with the others, but now cannot be seen."

"Eagle two, do you have Unit B?"

Ramsey firmed his grip on the weapon as the radio chatter crackled in his ear. Doubts continued to run through his mind about the operation. What if someone was seen? What if they decided to put up a fight? It was not a particularly complicated plan, as these plans tended to go, but so much could go wrong. It was best to try not to think about it.

"Hey Ramsey," came a familar voice in his ear.

"Jameson?"

"Don't worry, this is a private communication."

"Oh right. Um… what's up?"

"Just checkin' on how you are."

"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. What's going on up front? Did you lose Unit B?"

"Nothin' to worry about man. That one can be tricky, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"So listen, I was talking with some of the guys. If things get bad, go for Unit B first, okay?"

"Unit B…"

"Yeah, the one in the cloak."

"Okay."

"Okay. Good luck."

"Yeah, you too."

Jameson signed off and the line lit up with background chatter once more. Unit B was still nowhere to be found, but the general consensus seemed to be that the warehouse was the probable location.

He exhaled heavily, taking a brief stock of the surroundings. He could barely see anyone from his squad. This was probably because they were so well hidden, he hoped.

As his mind started to wander, he noticed a figure on the warehouse roof. Unit C surely, he thought. A report in his ear soon confirmed this.

Starfire she was called. A mysterious girl from some far off place. Rumour had it she was from another planet, although Ramsey was yet to be convinced. Still, she could fly and she could fire some kind of weird energy bolts, so something was going on.

As he continued to observe her, he could not help but notice how attractive she was. Sure, she was at some distance now, but he had never actually seen her in real life before, only in pictures in briefings, and on TV of course. She had a certain grace to her movements, like some kind of… no, he stopped himself mid track, definitely the wrong time for those kinds of thoughts. She was a target, at least for now. Okay, he was not entirely sure why, nor was he entirely comfortable with it, but his orders were his orders. Those higher up surely had their reasons.

"Okay," came Hamilton's voice over the radio, "they're all in. Move to second positions and await my command."

--------------------

"I'm feelin' more and more like this is just one big waste of time."

"Yeah, I'm starting to feel that myself," agreed Robin.

They made their way through the grey depths of one of the warehouse's many corridors. The rusting metal that comprised the majority of the internal structure told of age and ill keeping. This building had not been made with comfort in mind.

The air was heavy with some pungent odour, probably sulphur, and the dim lights aided their plight very little.

"This place could definitely do with a clean," remarked Cyborg, his heavy frame causing the steel grates beneath the floor the creak uneasily.

"Uh huh," said Robin, his mind fixed on the task at hand.

"Hmm… what's this?" wondered Cyborg out loud as he noticed a door just ahead.

"I wonder…"

As they arrived at the door, it seemed to fit the rest of the place in that it was as dilapidated as everything else. Cyborg was surprised that it even held, given the state of the hinges.

"Storage A," read Robin out loud. The metal sign on the door was somewhat degraded, but still legible.

"Shall we go in?"

Robin took a look further down the corridor before shrugging. "Getting anything on your scanners?"

"Nothing unusual."

Robin turned the handle and pushed open the door. It opened surprisingly easily and with only a little grinding of the hinges.

"Whoa," Cyborg recoiled as the musty odour assaulted his senses. "That's nasty."

"I wonder what they've got stored in here."

Robin reached around with his hand, feeling around before locating the light switch. The lights on the ceiling hummed for a moment before flickering into life.

They took a few steps into the large storage area, assessing anything of interest. Aside a few wooden boxes in a far corner, some hanging wires were all that stood out of place.

"Wonder what's in those boxes," said Cyborg, pointing over to them.

Robin shrugged. "I don't know, but somehow I doubt they're what we're looking for."

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged. "Let's get out of here."

"Alright," said Robin, taking one last look around, "let's go."

"I think this is where Beast boy's clothes come to die. You think…"

Robin held up a hand to halt Cyborg as he answered his beeping communicator.

"Robin, it's Raven. I think I have something."

"Where are you?"

--------------------

Raven terminated the call and took a deep breath to steady herself. At first, she had not been quite sure what it was that lay ahead of her. As she closed in, however, it became all too clear.

Whoever it was, they were no longer. A deathly silence seemed to descend upon the room as Raven observed the body, which lay curled up and still. A shallow pool of deep crimson had formed nearby, reflecting a dull light.

Seeing a body should be as nothing for someone in her line of work, but this was far from easy for Raven. She who may have seemed darkest of all, sought to distance herself from it. From this she could not distance herself.

"H…hey…" she called weakly, with some meagre hope that whoever this was still had something left.

No response. No movement.

She took slow, uneasy steps toward the body, taking shallow breaths and concentrating on maintaining her composure.

Closing in, the stillness was haunting. One arm was reached out desperately ahead, the moment of death perfectly preserved.

"Oh my god…" came a stunned voice from her left. "Raven, what happened…"

"Beast boy…" she whispered.

"Is he…"

"I think so."

He nodded slowly, taking in the harrowing scene.

A sharp intake of breath from above alerted them to Starfire's presence.

"What has happened here?"

"We don't know," replied Beast boy, looking over to Raven.

"No, we just got here ourselves," she confirmed.

Starfire settled down behind Raven, peering at the corpse from over her shoulder, not quite sure if gawking was the right thing to do. "Perhaps we should inform the authorities," she suggested in a respectful tone.

Their attention was drew to their left as a rusty door clattered open.

"Hey guys," nodded Cyborg. "What's… oh… man…" he stopped in his tracks as he saw the body.

"What the…" Robin looked on, open mouthed for a moment before regaining himself. "Do we know who this is?"

A brief round of shaking heads and a couple of stunned expressions answered his question. As unfitting as it was for such thoughts, knowing how his team would react when faced with this sort of a situation was of tactical importance.

"Beast boy, call an ambulance," he yelled, snapping into action. Now was not the time for a leader to be indecisive. "Raven, make absolutely sure there's nothing you can do for him. Cyborg…"

"Uh dude…" Beast boy timidly raised his hand.

"What is it?"

"I…uh… kinda lost my communicator…"

Robin let out an annoyed breath and gave Beast boy a momentary glance that said 'I am annoyed, but we'll deal with this later'. "Fine. Starfire, you call the ambulance."

Ordinarily, Raven would have thought Beast boy a fool and said something to that effect, but this was neither the time nor the place.

Then something clicked in her head. The position of the body, the communicator, she had seen this before. The vision, it was the vision. But no, it had been… a premonition.

"Wait!" she shouted, raising both hands. "This is… it's…" she struggled to find the right words.

They all stopped and quietened down, turning to listen to her.

"What is it Raven?" asked Robin gently, taking a step toward her.

Before she had a chance to order her thoughts, the sound of guns cocking caught all of their attention.

"Freeze!"

--------------------

Well, that's that then. Having just read it through myself, I had mixed thoughts at times. Still, it is currently 0410hrs, so I doubt I'm thinking straight. If you wouldn't mind leaving a review…


	9. Neither option seems good

Posted on 21/10/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Well now, nine chapters huh? Even I had no idea it would go this far. I think it reached something like one hundred pages already in Word.

Well anyway, on with the chapter. I am aware I ended the last chapter with a bit of a cliff hanger, which earned me just shy of death threats, so go ahead and read to continuation.

--------------------

Chapter 09

"What the…" Robin spun around to find himself facing several darkly clad men with guns pointed directly at him. "What's going on?"

"What do we do man?" asked Cyborg, readying his sonic cannon.

"Wait," ordered Robin, holding up a hand. Swiftly scanning around, he could see they were surrounded and easily outnumbered. Fighting their way out of this now could prove a costly mistake. Better to find out what was going on.

"Wise move," advised a calm, slightly grizzled voice. The team watched as an older, grey haired man pushed his way past several soldiers who were guarding one of the exits. It took Robin all of a second to realise this was the man in charge. He was military, as were they all.

"What do you want?" called Robin. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew what they wanted; the Titans, and they were not going to take 'no' for an answer. After all, there was nobody else here bar a single corpse and them. The failure of the soldiers to lower their weapons reinforced this suspicion.

The commander stopped some feet ahead of the Titans to take a cigar from his coat pocket, clearly in no rush to do anything.

He flicked open a small, silver lighter and lit the cigar, taking his time over the first few puffs, his gaze falling curiously on the body. He lifted his eyes to Robin, then back to the corpse, as if piecing together an obvious puzzle. "Hmm…" he nodded, taking the cigar between two fingers ceremoniously.

"I know what you're thinking," started Beast boy, but he was quickly hushed by Raven.

"Oh really," enquired the commander, raising his eyebrows. "And what would that be?" Cyborg clenched his fist. He barely knew this guy, but already he could tell they were not going to get on.

"Looks like a setup to me," growled Raven, taking a step forward and establishing a keen eye contact with the man.

"Huh…" the man shrugged, turning to face his men. "I always thought a setup was when a crime was committed by one party, and then blamed on another." Beast boy gritted his teeth, finding himself agitated by this man's patronising attitude.

He turned back towards the Titans, expecting a response. "No? Am I wrong perhaps? Jameson," he called over his shoulder. "Check the body."

"Yes sir," answered one of the soldiers at the near entrance. He made his way carefully toward the body, his gun remaining trained on the Titans.

"Don't worry," whispered Beast boy to Raven. "We didn't do anything, so they're not gonna find any evidence."

She looked at him flatly, gently shaking her head.

"But we didn't…" he continued.

"Quiet!" barked the leading soldier. Beast boy looked to Raven with hope in his eyes, but she returned no encouragement, lowering her gaze to the ground at his feet. She had a very strong feeling that they were going to find something on that body. Something that may just incriminate them all.

Jameson set his gun down next to the body before kneeling beside it himself. Raven took a sharp intake of breath as the soldier rolled the corpse over onto its back and patted it down.

"He won't find anything," said Robin defiantly.

"Maybe not, but I've got to follow procedure."

"Sir," Jameson looked over to his superior. "I think I've got something."

All eyes focused on the soldier as he carefully removed something from the body's left trouser pocket.

"No…" breathed Robin, shaking his head with disbelief. He knew what he saw, but how could it be possible?

"Give it here," ordered the commander.

"Sir," acknowledged Jameson, throwing over the small artefact.

"Hmm… what's this then?" pondered the veteran soldier, rolling it around in his hands.

"Hey!" yelled Beast boy, starting to click as to what was going on. "That's mine!"

Robin and Raven's furious expressions in his direction were clear indication enough that he may have just put his foot in it big time.

"Yours, you say?" the grey haired man asked with a mildly surprised intonation.

"Well… I… um…" he squirmed.

"That is unfortunate."

"Are you suggesting we had a hand in the death of this person?" asked Starfire.

"I don't know what to believe," shrugged the man. "But if the shoe fits…"

"BB can't have done it," proclaimed Cyborg, anger rising in his voice, "he was with me for like the last few hours."

"So you're admitting you were with him the entire time?"

"Well…" Cyborg considered his response carefully. This guy was clever. "Yeah, I was, but he didn't do this. None of us did."

"You don't seriously believe we had anything to do with this do you?" reasoned Robin.

"I'm just following my orders. A philosophy you might consider it wise to instil," he said, shooting a sideward glance at a dejected looking Beast boy.

"I'd rather the people under me have their own mind and think about the orders that are given."

"Well," the commander took a leisurely lungful of smoke from his cigar, "I guess that's up to you. Unfortunately though, I don't have time to stand around and discuss leadership techniques…"

Robin tensed himself, settling into a fighting stance. The other Titans followed his lead and prepared for combat. It was clear to Robin that whatever it was these soldiers were here to do, they were going to do it now.

The cigar smoking man snapped his fingers and several men advanced on their position from different directions. The Titans instinctively adopted a circular formation, each member facing outwards, covering the backs of the others. It did not put them in a strong tactical position, but they had not choice. Soldiers faced them from all sides, out gunning them and clearly out manning them.

"Hold," called the commander, holding aloft his right hand. The advancing soldiers stopped dead. "Hmm," he exhaled with some frustration, "I had hoped you would come peacefully."

"Peacefully?" growled Robin. "You want us to come peacefully, even though you are here to arrest us for a crime we had nothing to do with?"

"_If_ you're innocent, as you claim, then that will be proven in a court of law. As far as I'm concerned, you're at the scene of a murder and the evidence is stacked against you. You know you'd take _me_ in if you were where I am."

"Hmph," he grunted. As much as he resented the idea, it was the truth. He had busted criminals on less evidence than this. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, there could be a fairly reasonable explanation for the circumstances they found themselves in.

"Hold on," said Cyborg, a long way from being satisfied with the convenience of the situation, "how'd y'all get here so quickly?"

"Yeah," agreed Beast boy vehemently, "you were here in, what, seconds? It's gotta be a setup."

Robin perked his ears. This was a point he should also like to have answered to calm his suspicions.

"That's some fanciful theory you've got there," nodded the older man, as if considering it seriously. "But I can't accept it. You think you're the only ones who receive emergency calls in these situations?"

"Well…" started Beast boy.

"No, you're not. As grateful as I'm sure the city is for your past service, you practically operate as you want. I mean, you get these calls, but it's up to you if you follow them up. You don't take orders, nor are you under any obligation."

"We are under an obligation. An obligation to protect people," argued Robin. "How are we supposed to do that while in your custody? What if something happens that's beyond your capability to deal with?"

The commander looked down and smiled. "Beyond our capability huh? We caught you didn't we?"

"Not yet," muttered Robin, narrowing his eyes in a challenging manner.

"I wouldn't advise doing anything stupid now, boy," advised the commander. "You may be willing to lay down your own life, but can you speak so freely about the lives of your comrades?"

"They won't be the one whose lives will be in question," threatened Raven under a tissue thin veil of calm.

"I've seen what you can do, Raven," he replied, looking her squarely in the eyes. "Same goes for the rest of you. Sure, you can fight, it's even possible you may win, but you'll be fugitives, outlaws, criminals on the run. Your names will be all over the TV and on the front of every newspaper from here to Gotham. Everyone will know what you've done."

"But we didn't _do_ anything," stressed Robin.

"Then come with me," he offered sincerely. "Prove your innocence in a court of law."

Robin relaxed and turned to confer with the other Titans, hoping their reactions might give him some clue as to what to do next. The options were very limited. They could fight their way through the soldiers and escape and they might get away, but whoever this guy was, he was right on the two main issues. Someone could get hurt, maybe seriously, and they would be on the run. Their reputation would be damaged if not destroyed, and they would be hunted down. Alternatively they could give themselves up and go into custody. This had the advantage whereby nobody would be hurt, but the downside that if this was a setup, surely any court case would be impossible to win.

"We can't give ourselves up," whispered Cyborg. "If we do, it's like admitting we're guilty."

"What, you think we should fight our way out? We're totally outnumbered dude."

"Raven?" prompted Robin.

She sighed, reflecting their grim surroundings. "We run, we lose. We go with them, we lose."

"Then which option offers the most acceptable losses?" asked Starfire.

"But if we run, it's like saying we did it," argued Beast boy.

"And how do you think it will look if we just go into their custody?" responded Raven.

"That's…umm … I guess."

"If we go with them now, there will be no bloodshed," Starfire pointed out.

"I think I'm with Star," nodded Beast boy thoughtfully.

Robin looked at Cyborg and Raven. "Well?"

"I dunno," shrugged Cyborg. "Neither option seems good."

"Raven?"

"There is one advantage of getting away that I can see," she pondered. "We might be able to prove our innocence."

"And we'd have every cop within fifty miles on our tail," reminded Beast boy.

"At least we wouldn't be locked away. What could we do from there?"

"Alright, calm down, we don't have time for this," growled Robin.

"I'd hate to rush you," called over the commander, an edging of smugness to his voice.

"Fine," sighed Raven. "I say we run, but it's your choice Robin."

Robin rubbed his eyes, mulling over the options. Raven had a point; they would be in a much better position to prove their innocence from outside of jail. But they would still be on the run. He wished he had more time to think about it, but there was none.

"Okay, we go with them for now," he said finally. Starfire and Beast boy nodded solemnly, whilst Cyborg and Raven remained visibly unconvinced. Even so, they would go along with the decision. "This way, nobody gets hurt and we can see what they've got against us. Then we fight against it within the legal system."

"And if this turns out to be more than a series of convenient coincidences?" asked a cynical Raven.

"Well," he lowered his voice further, "I don't think there's a prison built yet that can hold us."

They all nodded soberly in loose agreement. Whether this would prove the right thing to do, only time would tell.

"Alright then," said Robin, turning to face the grey commander. "We'll play this your way."

"Good," he nodded, clicking his fingers. The men who had approached previously stepped forward, producing black, plastic handcuffs. Robin looked at them, then to the commander. "Sorry. We can't be too careful."

"Alright then," said Robin, holding out his arms reluctantly. As the cuffs clicked into position around his wrists, he could not help but ponder the irony. For all the criminals he had arrested, all those he had turned over to the authorities, who could have guessed he would eventually come to the same fate.

"Hey watch it," yelled Beast boy, as the cuffs pinched the skin on his wrists. "That hurts."

"Do we really still need all these guns pointed at us?" asked Robin, observing the soldiers.

"Standard procedure."

"Right."

Raven was lead away first, in the direction of the group of soldiers at the south door. "Hold on," she said, struggling slightly, "you're going to split us up?"

"That's standard procedure," explained the commander.

"They have a standard procedure for dealing with _us_?" whispered Beast boy to Cyborg.

"Dunno man."

"Okay, next."

Beast boy was tugged somewhat forcefully and led to the group of soldiers who backed up the commander on the east side. "Hey, take it easy, will ya?" he whispered to the burly soldier who escorted him.

"I don't like this, man," said Cyborg nervously as they watched Raven being led through the door and out of sight.

"So where are you going to take us?" asked Robin.

"We have a facility."

"Pray tell," began Starfire, "what kind of facility is this?"

"I'm afraid the details are not something I'm at liberty to discuss." He nodded to the soldier behind Starfire who then began to escort her toward the south exit.

"So it's a _secret_ facility," surmised Cyborg, keeping an eye on Starfire.

"I really can't say," he said, sounding more justified than regretful.

"Wait, one moment please," said Starfire, stopping to turn to the commander. The accompanying soldier looked to him for approval.

"Alright," he nodded to the soldier. "What is it?"

"I am not sure this separation is a necessary action."

"Oh?" the commander enquired, raising his eyebrow.

"Yes. If you judge us on past merit alone, and since we have agreed to come with you freely to seek to prove our non involvement in this matter, we should be entitled to a better level of treatment."

"Well now," he rubbed his chin. "I can't deny your service or your previous record, or lack thereof, but I know that if you ever turned to the other side…"

"But we have not turned to this other side," she interrupted, eager to rebuff accusations that would tarnish the Titans.

"You'll get your chance to prove it. Carry on, soldier."

"Sir." The soldier attempted to push her, but she would not be moved. The aim of several guns fell upon her instantly.

"One more question, please," she said, quite seriously. She was not going to leave until she had asked it. This much was clear to the commander.

He let out an agitated breath but allowed her request. "Alright."

"When are we to be reunited?" she asked almost faintly. Being taken away to prove their good name she could handle, but being all alone in some dark cell was not a prospect she cherished.

"That's out of my hands."

"Oh," she replied meekly, allowing herself to be led away.

Robin looked on, trying to remain even tempered, despite the boiling emotions that rose in his gut as he watched his friends being led away in restraints. As unpleasant as it was, it was a decision he had made for their name and their safety. Somehow though, this provided precious little consolation.

"Next."

--------------------

Ramsey sat back against the wall, letting the cool evening breeze wash across his face. This may have been a mission, but ever since he had heard the Titans were going to surrender themselves, he could take it easy.

"Aaah," he breathed, looking over to his uncomfortable helmet which lay beside him. A passing thought reminded him that he would not be able to listen for orders without it, but he was enjoying the moment. Besides, if everyone else made a move, he would join them.

Watching two wisps of cloud drift past the face of the low moon, he attempted to solve the moral problem that had been hounding him since the beginning of this thing. What was it the Teen Titans had done that he did not know about? What was the justification that led to the orders to bring them in? Sure, there was the body, which had surprised him when he had heard it over the radio, but there was no way that could warrant the move, unless someone had known about it in advance, which threw up all kinds of question he did not want to consider. No, there had to be something else. Hamilton probably knew, but he was not going to talk. Ramsey was on a strictly need to know basis and that was something he did not need to know.

He could not remember anything less than a glowing story about the Titans. While this was maybe a little unrealistic, he had always put it down to an over zealous media. "They can't be perfect," he thought out loud, "but criminals?"

Either way, what could he do? His job was to follow orders no matter what those orders were, even if he did not agree with them.

The sudden hasty departure of Preswick toward the front entrance of the warehouse alerted Ramsey to the fact that they were probably leaving. He took on final breath of fresh before donning the helmet.

"Damnit Ramsey, you'd better be dead or worse…" The familiar, gruff and now quite annoyed voice of Jameson greeted him.

"Hey Jameson, what's up?"

"'What's up'? Well how about your sorry ass is going to get fifty laps around the city if you don't get yourself to the main entrance of K-17."

"Okay, I'm on it," he said casually, starting on his way in the ordered direction. "So what am I doing when I get there?"

"We've got C,D and E in separate armoured trucks. You're goin' in with C."

"You mean Starfire?" he asked, not entirely sure whether to be excited or not. He did kind of like her, but to see her restrained and locked away would most likely not a pleasant experience.

"Yeah, Starfire," he confirmed. "Don't go getting any ideas."

"Huh? Ideas, like what?" Ramsey tried to sound as innocent as possible.

"Uh huh…" Jameson said flatly. "She's too young for you. Besides, you're part of the group who arrested her. Imagine what your _second_ date would be like."

"Whatever man, I'm only twenty. Besides, I never even said I liked her."

"You think I can't tell by now when you like someone?"

"Yeah well…" He turned the corner to the entrance of the warehouse, confronted by three large black vehicles and several soldiers filing into them. They appeared almost as scurrying shadows in this low light. Probably fitting, he noted, given the kind of work they were doing.

"Alright, let's finish this later," the voice crackled in his ear.

"Yeah, okay. You going to the bar later?"

"Try and stop me."

Ramsey switched back to the general channel, where there was various chatter of the security arrangements and other deployments. All he had to do now was figure out which truck Starfire was in without appearing to the others not to know.

"Hey Ramsey," called a voice from one trucks, "get your ass in here."

Well, somehow his luck was in today. "On my way," he acknowledged, jogging over to the far most vehicle.

Peering into the truck, he confirmed that he was in the right place. There, behind a steel grate, restrained with handcuffs, sat the graceful form of Starfire. Her head was bowed low, an expression of sorrowful resignation on her face.

"Well? Are you getting in or what?" asked Cropple with a patronising tone.

"Yeah, sorry." Great, he thought. Of all the people he did not need on this trip.

Ramsey hopped on board, squeezing onto the seat on the right side. He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement to the soldier he sat beside. It was hard to tell who was who sometimes with these helmets.

"Hey," nodded the soldier.

"Everybody in?" came Hamilton's voice from outside.

"All present and correct," reported Cropple.

"Okay, close it up."

The door slammed shut, leaving only four soldiers, one Tamaranean and an eerie quiet. Still, Ramsey thought, who were they going to talk to? Starfire?

The quiet was brought to a swift end as the engine kicked into life, shaking the truck violently enough for Ramsey to have to steady himself with his feet. "Damn," he cursed. Nobody replied, but he could almost feel the sting of Cropple's criticising words.

The low rumble picked up as the vehicle started to move. Ramsey relaxed and tapped his fingers on the top of his rifle.

A slight movement of the helmet of the adjacent soldier was enough to make him stop. It was probably annoying, he realised.

Well, he thought, taking stock of the situation, there she was. He had seen her many times on the television, but on none of those occasions had she looked as helpless as this. Maybe the guys he sat with were hardened combat veterans, but Ramsey could not help but feel some sense of pity. She just looked so defeated.

She looked up for a moment, and he quickly reverted to looking straight ahead, cursing himself silently. Fortunately, he realised, she would not have been able to see exactly where he was looking due to the helmet, so he might have gotten away with it. Still, this was no time for day dreaming or staring at girls; he was on duty.

But what duty was that? If this girl decided she no longer wanted to be here, it would take more than four soldiers to stop her.

He continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye. It was hard to really appreciate her carefree beauty when she was like this. Not that he would have expected her to act any differently.

Ramsey shook his head and tried to think of something else. That nice relaxing beer later with Jameson. He would probably get an earful over this while Starfire business, but it was all good. Besides, he could just accuse Jameson of being jealous and that would shut him up. If things went as usual, they would wind up getting drunk and setting the world to rights before falling into a semi comatose sleep at their table. Now that was a night. It was also something this girl may never get to experience if Hamilton had his way. What a situation.

"Please…" came Starfire's fragile voice, "would it be possible for me to have a cup of water? My throat is rather dry…"

"No," refused Cropple bluntly. "You can wait."

"Very well," she accepted, trying, but failing to put on an understanding face. She was sad and there were no two ways about it.

Ramsey clenched his fist tightly, causing his glove to emit a slight creak. That Cropple was some piece of work, he thought. He had not known him for that long, but already it was clear this was the sort of controlling situation he might enjoy. Ramsey decided he would very much like to smash this guy's head against a wall until the blood came out.

--------------------

Beast boy sighed and stared at his feet. At the time, this option had seemed like the more sensible, but as time went on, doubts were starting to surface in his mind. Sure, the other way may have been more violent, and they would have been fleeing the law for who knew how long, but at least he could be with his friends. He had spent time without them before, and had even enjoyed the break from their annoying habits, but the prospect of not knowing when he would see them again made him feel very lonely indeed.

He looked up at the soldiers who were guarding him. Three of them were fairly indistinguishable due to their heavy black head gear, but one had taken that off and was leaning back, relaxing; his eyes closed. This guy was definitely menacing, Beast boy thought. The scars that littered his face told of countless conflicts, not to mention that he was broad and tall. Even so, the fact that Beast boy could see his face at all somehow made him more human.

"Hey," whispered Beast boy, somehow hoping that he might be able to speak to this one guy without any of the other soldiers hearing.

No sign of a response. He considered if they had not heard him or whether they were purposefully ignoring him because he was their prisoner. There was only one way to find out.

"Hey," he whispered a little more loudly.

The soldier without a helmet cracked open his eyes a little, turning to Beast boy with a questioning look, as if to confirm that it had been he who had spoken. "What?" his gruff voice told of only a minimal interest.

"Umm…" began Beast boy. Honestly, he had not considered far beyond getting an answer at all, never mind what he was actually going to talk about with this soldier who had locked him up and may possibly shoot him if he made a wrong move.

The soldier shook his head and leaned back once more, resting his eyes.

"A…are we all going to the same place?" he asked finally, fear of the loss of his friends driving him to overcome whatever it was that made this guy intimidating.

The man sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing the stubble on his chin. It was hard to tell whether he was considering the question or just thinking of the best way to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

"You're all going to a facility," he said eventually. "I thought we already told you that."

"Yeah, you did… but did you mean… like… we're all going to the _same_ facility or…?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "You're going to the same facility."

"Oh," said Beast boy. He could not help but feel a little warmer inside. That was something he could hold on to at least.

His spirits somewhat raised by that news, he felt a little more confident. Maybe he had even made some sort of connection with this soldier. Sure, he looked grizzled on the outside, but who knew what he was really like. People probably misjudged him all the time.

"I'm Beast boy," he announced cheerily after a moment of consideration.

The soldier grunted, which Beast boy interpreted as an acknowledgement. Still, it was hardly conducive to further conversation. Perhaps he should quite while he was ahead.

"…Jameson," the soldier replied, clearly to the surprise of the two soldiers sat opposite, who looked at each other. "You guys got a problem?"

"No sir," they replied.

"Good." Beast boy clued on to the fact that this guy was clearly the one in charge. He would be the man to talk to, although he did seem a little mean and not particularly patient.

"Look, Mr. Jameson," he started, having decided he had nothing to lose anyway, "we really didn't do anything you know. We would never…"

"Kid," he cut Beast boy off, probably not in the mood to talk. "I've got nothing to do with that."

"Oh. Right." Made sense, Beast boy supposed. This guy's job was just to arrest him. Even still, he surely had a view on the subject. "But… you don't think we did it, do you?"

Jameson exhaled and turned to face Beast boy. "I'm just here to make sure you don't get away, alright?"

Beast boy nodded. It would have been nice to know someone thought them innocent, but it seemed this guy was going to keep his cards close to his chest.

--------------------

Raven breathed steadily and calmly, trying to reach the inner peace that would allow her some escape from these confining surroundings. Unfortunately, the jerking of the moving vehicle, the constant annoying drone of the engine, as well as the restricting hand bindings provided her with some difficulty.

After several minutes, she managed to shrug off the outside world to an extent that allowed her to focus internally, reaching a state of meditation.

She opened her eyes to find herself on the lush grassy bank of a small stream. The overhanging branch of a willow tree waved in the light breeze, shielding her from the midday sun.

Leaning back, she rested her eyes and concentrated on the sound of the stream lapping over the rocks and against the banks, letting it carry away her stresses. She could just lay here for hours.

Her eyes opened slowly as a distant drumming sound interrupted her concentration. Coming up to a sitting position, she stretched out her arms and yawned, turning lazily to see what the source of this noise was.

It grew slowly louder, forcing her to give up the hope of any peace and quiet. It was definitely drawing closer, but still she could see nothing amiss in the picturesque scene.

"Raven," shouted the soldier through the steel grate which separated them. "Time to wake up, we're here." He knocked on the grate several times, trying to rouse her.

"You think she's alright?" asked a soldier behind him.

"What do I look like to you," replied the first soldier, "a doctor?"

"Uh," grunted Raven as she slowly returned.

"Looks like she's fine," reported the first soldier. "Hey, Raven. We're here. Time to get out."

He took a set of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. Four guns raised to point at her as the grate swung open with a metallic squeal.

Raven rubbed her face with one hand, feeling a little groggy, as if she had been asleep for hours. "How long were we travelling for?" she asked, stopping to clear her throat.

"No time for chit chat, missy," said the soldier, gesturing to her to stand up while keeping a firm grip on his rifle. She raised her eyes to look into his, casting an icy stare. He may have worn a helmet, but she was not going to let that stop her expressing her distaste.

"Now please," came a voice from one of the other soldiers. Despite the words, it was less polite request and more steely order.

"Fine," she growled, rising to her feet.

The soldiers backed out of the truck from the rear, still keeping their guns trained on her. "Okay, come on. This way."

She edged forward slowly, being sure not to make any sudden or unexpected movements. These soldiers seemed on edge enough as it was.

Stepping out from the vehicle, she was embraced instantly by the night's even chill. Almost as quickly, she was bathed in a bright, artificial light, causing her to raise her hands to shield her hands. At least two high powered lights were aimed in her direction, hindering her efforts to piece together a view of the surrounding area.

"This way," shouted one of the soldiers, who had now positioned himself behind her. His placed a hand in the centre of her back and pushed her forward, guiding her direction and dictating her pace.

"Alright," she raised her voice to make herself heard above the hubbub. Aside the tramping of boots on concrete and shouting voices, there seemed to be at least one helicopter circling above as well as nearby ground vehicles with their engines in operation. She guessed at least twenty soldiers in the immediate vicinity, most probably concentrating on her. Wherever she was, it was certainly no police station, nor a regular penitentiary. This was military territory.

Moving forward at a steady pace, she noticed that the lights followed her closely, keeping her as the focus of attention.

By now, it was possible to make out a building ahead of her. From what she could make out, it was very substantial, stretching widely in each direction, with two tall towers toward the front housing those blinding search lights.

A growing crack of illumination on the front of the building revealed itself to be a vast entrance to the complex.

"Okay, it's open," called one voice from somewhere off to her left.

"Roger," acknowledged one of her entourage.

Stepping inside the building, the lights were no longer able to obscure her vision and she was much better able to assess her surroundings. Ahead of her stretched out a very long, tall corridor. The length was such that it stretched far beyond Raven's view and tall enough to accommodate even someone of Cinderblock's generous stature.

The low hum of the lights that lined the top side of the corridor was the only sound she could discern from inside, although she was aware that the blare of the activities outside restricted her hearing.

Taking it in for a moment, it was hard not to notice the uniformity of the area. All sides of the corridor were lined with the same dull grey metal. She figured steel, but could not be sure.

To her left was a large window, bullet proof she guessed, behind which stood a young, keen looking soldier. One of the members from her group broke off, stepping over to converse with him.

"RX 7524 Reese registering the prisoner," he reported, giving a salute.

"Registering of prisoner authorised," he soldier replied, saluting. "Please state the name of the prisoner."

"Raven, of the Teen Titans."

The soldier behind the window leaned to look past Reese, inspecting Raven as well as he could from that distance. "Alright," he said after a few moments, "proceed."

"Is the cell ready?"

"All preparations have been made."

A rifle barrel jabbed into her lower back, causing her to jump forward instinctively. "I _am_ coming with you voluntarily you know, so don't push it," she snarled.

"Keep moving."

She picked up her feet reluctantly and marched on at the set pace.

As the large mechanical door behind her began to grind shut, she was sure she could make out the distinctive growl of another prison truck arriving. Maybe they planned to bring the others here too.

These were dark times for Raven. Doubt crawled through her mind, plaguing her thoughts. Had Robin been right to give this order? Had she been right to accept it? What was going to happen now?

She tried her best to block out the prospect of an extended period of solitary incarceration, instead focusing on that one hope that kept her going. Maybe her friends were coming here too.

--------------------

Well then, another chapter out the door. I think it was ten days for that one. That's pretty quick I suppose. I usually aim for three weeks tops (assuming no problems arise in my life), so less than half of that is good. As for when the next chapter will be ready… well, you will just have to wait. Thanks for reading, please take the time to tell me what you liked/disliked in a review.


	10. Even Beast Boy would do

Posted on 02/11/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Ten chapters. Who would have thought it? Not me, that's for sure, but here we are. I've even picked up some great reviewers along the route, who I do appreciate. If you're reading this, do add something. Even if it's just to say you liked it, or didn't.

To warn you, there is a little language in this which might be considered unsuitable for younger children. Nothing terrible, but just so as you know.

Well, on with the show.

--------------------

Chapter 10

Ramsey looked down into his drink, hoping to find the answers to life's questions. Even above the ruckus of a typical bar filled with soldiers, he had found his own little world.

Swirling the glass around, he watched with infinite interest as the liquid settled. The frothy head creating a ring around the edge of the glass, through which the amber bubbles fizzled.

He let out a heart felt sigh and slid the glass away from him across the polished wooden table. Somehow a 'celebration' drink seemed pretty disrespectful.

"Whoa man," came Jameson's voice from over his left shoulder, "you're not just gonna waste that beer, are you?"

Ramsey shrugged, not raising his eyes.

"Hey, what's up?" asked his friend, sliding into the seat next to him.

"I just don't feel like drinking…"

"Are you kidding? You do know who we just caught, right?"

No response.

"Look," Jameson place a large hand on Ramsey's shoulder, "whether you agree with it or not, you can at least be happy that nobody got hurt. Could have gotten a lot worse, and you know it."

"I guess…" mumbled Ramsey.

"That's the spirit," he smiled, patting Ramsey's shoulder. "Hey Joe, you crazy son of a bitch!" he called over to the bar. "I'll take a beer."

"Hold your damn horses," came the reply of an old man already swamped with orders.

"Alright…" said Jameson, returning his attention to the dejected man he sat with. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not unless you're going to tell me why we arrested them."

Jameson exhaled heavily and sat back on his seat. "We already talked about this…"

"No," he turned to look Jameson in the face, "you already fobbed me off with some crap about this."

"Look," he replied sternly, "this stuff's way above your head. If you want to know, ask Hamilton."

"I'm asking you."

Jameson softened his expression. "As a friend, I'm asking you to drop this."

"And as a friend, I'm asking you to tell me."

"Don't put me in this position Ramsey. If I start handing out classified information, it's gonna be my ass."

"So you _do_ know something."

"Hey," said Jameson, holding up his hands defensively, "I didn't say _that_."

"I know you're holding out on me Jameson. Here I am trying to figure out what's what, whether I can sleep at night and there's you, sat there with all the answers."

"Don't take this personally Ramsey. It's the chain of command. We only get told what we need to know to do the job."

"Whatever," Ramsey dismissed, deciding a few swigs of beer were just what he needed after all.

"Look, let's change the subject eh?"

"Well well," sneered an all too familiar character behind them. "You two love birds not getting on so well?"

"Not now, Cropple," warned Jameson.

"Oh I'm sorry," he said with a fabricated touch of over concern. "I wouldn't want to offend you poor guys."

They chose not to rise to his taunts, although this seemed to make him all the more determined. He leaned his arms on the table between the two, looking carefully at Ramsey. "You can tell me what's bothering you, surely."

"It's nothing."

"Well it's got to be _something_. I mean, what gets a trained soldier to cry into his drink?"

"It's _nothing_," he repeated, gritting his teeth.

"Come on Ramsey, it won't do you any good to bottle these things up. They'll only boil up and erupt at a later time. Maybe on a mission. I'm only concerned for you."

Ramsey took a steadying breath and rose to his feet, looking Cropple squarely in the face. "What do you want Cropple?"

"I'm just concerned for the soldiers in my unit," he shrugged, half concealing a smirk.

"Maybe you should be more concerned for yourself."

"Oh, why's that?"

Ramsey responded with a solid right hook to Cropple's jaw, knocking him to one side. The bar went deadly quiet.

Cropple wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, inspecting the drops of blood. He cast Ramsey a deathly stare before lunging at him. The soldiers erupted with excitement, cheering the fight on.

Jameson took a deep breath and kept to his seat. Maybe Ramsey just needed to work this out of his system, and who better to work it out on that Cropple.

Ramsey saw the lunge coming and pushed out his arms to try and stop it, but Cropple managed to throw a punch between his arms and catch Ramsey full on the chin. He recoiled, trying his best to keep his arms ahead so as to avoid further blows.

Cropple took advantage of Ramsey's lack of focus and landed another blow upwards into his stomach, causing him to double over and exposing his head for a clear strike. Cropple drew back his right arm and threw his fist in hard, committing his body. Ramsey had anticipated this move, and parried the blow with a swift left palm, knocking Cropple's punch slightly off course. As he jerked past, Ramsey came over the top of Cropple's arm with a powerful right fist, delivering a crunching blow to his nose.

"Oooh," winced several soldiers, almost able to feel the sting in that blow.

Ramsey stepped toward the laying Cropple, who cradled his nose. It bled furiously, coating his hand and mouth, and dripping onto his uniform.

"That's enough," ordered Jameson, rising to his feet.

Ramsey and Cropple stared at each other bitterly, neither showing any intention of ending the conflict. Ramsey took a step forward, but a bulky arm blocked his path.

"I said that's enough."

"Fine," he grunted, lowering his arms.

Cropple came uneasily to his feet, brushing himself down with one hand while stemming the flow of blood with the other. "I hope everyone saw that," he yelled, a spiteful look aimed at Ramsey. "He struck me first. He started this."

"You got what you deserved," said Jameson.

"Well, if you won't take this seriously," he sneered, "I'm just going to have to go above your head, sergeant. I'm sure Hamilton will be interested to hear what happened here."

"I doubt it."

"We'll see."

--------------------

Robin relaxed backward onto his bed, expelling a pent breath and interlocking his fingers behind his head. He had been in his cell only half an hour and already he was running low on things to do. He could probably exercise some or practise his martial arts techniques, but it was probably best to take stock of events.

As he traced a path between the white ceiling panels with his eyes, his mind went over the day's events. One event in particular came to dominate his thoughts; the confrontation in the warehouse. Had his decision to give himself, and his team, up been the right one? Beast boy had sounded quite sure the event was a set up, but surely he only had the same information that Robin did. It would not be unlike Beast boy to jump to the most dramatic conclusion, but could Robin deny it lacked merit?

Rolling over and burying his face in the surprisingly fresh smelling pillow, he considered the facts. Firstly, there was the emergency call to the tower. It carried nothing but the most basic information and led them straight to the warehouse. On one hand, this could have been an incomplete transmission, or even a false alarm. On the other, it may have been the first step in an elaborate setup. Secondly, there was the body. In particular, the body's possession of what appeared to be Beast boy's communicator. Looking at it from a positive angle, it could be surmised that it was a coincidence and that the person may well have stolen it prior to death. From a negative perspective, the body and the communicator were placed as incriminating evidence, just in case all that circumstantial evidence failed to hold up. Thirdly, there was the convent timing of the soldiers' arrival. A suspicious mind would look at that one as the final part of the trap, catching the Titans at the time and place of a murder with no other apparent suspects. On the flipside of that, the commander had mentioned that his unit were a kind of back up for the Titans. It would make sense for there to be such a measure in case the Titans were incapacitated or otherwise engaged, but surely he would have been told about it. Then again, he thought, if he had known about it, would he have been more likely to leave some situations for them to handle on occasion?

Troubled with his thoughts, he sat up on the edge of the bed. Relaxing was clearly not going to work with his head so full of critical unanswered questions. There was yet another question, he realised. Had they wanted to set them up and capture them, why not split them up? Had they resisted, they would certainly have been easier to detain that way. Then again, it may not have been possible to incriminate them all at the scene of one crime were they separate.

As much as he went over the questions in his mind, the more he came to the same conclusion. It had been his decision to give them up and his alone, and now he was going to have to live with it. As much as he burned to solve the problems that plagued his mind, present circumstances were not on his side. All he really had was the hope that he had made the right call, and that this really was just one big mistake waiting to be worked out. So much depended on it.

--------------------

"So," said Hamilton calmly, as he stood behind his desk, facing away from the two guilty looking soldiers, "Cropple paints quite a picture."

He turned and leaned on desk, alternating his gaze between the faces of the two men. "But I know there are two sides to every story."

"Sir, if I may," started Cropple, adjusting the brown plaster that sat astride his nose.

"You have something you wish to add to your existing story Cropple?"

"Well…I"

"I'll take that as a 'no'. So," he turned to Ramsey, "Mr. Ramsey. Cropple here seems to be under the impression that you attacked him without provocation. Would you say that is a fair assessment?"

"Not exactly sir," he said, shifting his weight anxiously. He was aware that he was probably going to take the fall for this one, so he figured he should be concerned with damage limitation.

"Not exactly huh," repeated Hamilton in a questioning fashion. "Care to elaborate?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I was having a conversation with Sergeant Jameson, and Cropple comes over and starts pestering me." Cropple sniffed in such a fashion as to question Ramsey's version of events.

"Go on."

"So I tell him to back off. He doesn't. I tell him to back off again, and he keeps on with the remarks and comments, so … well then I hit him."

"Hmm…" nodded Hamilton, taking a seat. He leaned back in the leather chair, causing it to creak slightly, and raised one hand to his face, rubbing what appeared to be a day or two's worth of stubble. "So you do admit to throwing the first blow."

"Yes sir, I do."

"Hmm, okay. Well, fortunately, nobody was seriously hurt…" Cropple looked as if he were about to protest when Hamilton continued. "But… as I'm sure you're aware, this kind of behaviour is not acceptable. This is true of the military in general, but particularly in my unit. If you have a problem Ramsey, you need to talk to someone before you lash out, not after."

"Yes sir," he said in a low voice, bowing his head slightly.

There was silence in the room as Hamilton took a file from his top drawer and placed it on his desk. "You know Ramsey," he said as he leafed through a file, "I wouldn't want this incident to hurt you in the future, and since you're new, I'll not be placing it on your record."

"But sir," protested Cropple.

"Did you get promoted above me in the last few moments, Cropple?" barked Hamilton.

"No sir, but…"

"Well then, until that day comes, I will be the one giving the orders and you will be the one following them. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir," affirmed Cropple in a somewhat less than respectful tone.

"Good. Now, Ramsey, don't think you've gotten away with this. You break the rules under my command and you get punished for it."

"Yes sir."

"Hmm…" he pondered, considering a suitable penalty. "One month basic rations only."

"Yes sir."

"I'm not finished yet. In addition, you are not to visit the bar during this period and I want twenty laps of the yard every morning. Understood?"

"Yes sir, perfectly sir." He sighed with relief internally, for he had predicted a far worse punishment than that. Cropple's face creased up with clear displeasure at the leniency of the judgement.

"As for you Cropple," he looked over to the other soldier, "no bar for a month."

"What?" he asked loudly and incredulously. "But sir… I didn't…"

"Problem Cropple?" His hard stare was enough to let anyone know how little he cared for insolence.

"…no sir," he grumbled.

"Okay then, dismissed."

"Yes sir," shouted Cropple, saluting firmly before turning sharply and marching out of the office.

Hamilton opened a small wooden box on his desk and took from it one of his preferred cigars, smelling it carefully and savouring the aroma. He struck a match and lit it, the end glowing warmly as intakes of breath fuelled the ember.

"Aaah," he exhaled, shaking out the match and allowing a lungful of grey smoke to drift slowly into the air in front of him. "Ramsey," he said finally, greeting the soldier with an unwavering eye contact. "If something was bothering you so much that you would attack a comrade, might that thing weigh on your mind to such an extent as to interfere with your work?"

"I suppose it would depend what that thing was, sir." His sly attempt to deflect the question had clearly won him no favours with Hamilton, whose face now betrayed his growing impatience.

"What is it that was bothering you, Ramsey?" he asked directly.

"Well sir," he began, before taking a pause. The thing he was bothered about was the evidence Hamilton had on Titans, but admitting that would raise several questions, including his ability to effectively follow orders and his disrespect for Hamilton's command decisions.

"Yes…"

"I'd… rather not talk about it sir."

"Well that's unfortunate private," he raised his voice and sat forward, "because I'd rather you _did_ talk about it."

Hamilton watched Ramsey squirm on the spot. He could probably make him talk, but fortunately he had another option. "Mary," he said into the intercom, "send in Sergeant Jameson."

"Yes, sir," came the response.

"You don't leave me much of a choice here Ramsey."

Jameson marched in, giving a slight nod to Ramsey before saluting his superior.

"At ease," waved Hamilton.

"Sir," he acknowledged, relaxing his posture somewhat.

"I have a question for you, sergeant."

"Sir?"

"Private Ramsey here has a problem," he said, gesturing with one arm. "A problem which causes him to lash out at fellow soldiers. A problem he chooses not to reveal to me at this time."

Jameson shot Ramsey a quick look, raising his eyebrows. This was going to be a tricky situation. "The problem I refer to I believe you are familiar with, since I have heard from a reliable witness that you two discussed the matter."

"I see sir."

"Oh then I'm glad," he replied with more than a helping of sarcasm. "Now if you wouldn't mind enlightening me…"

"Well sir," he started. "Erm… well…"

"Spit it out soldier," demanded Hamilton.

"Well it's a little tricky, sir."

"There's nothing tricky about it soldier," he bellowed, standing up from his seat and leaning across his desk, "and if you don't understand that, maybe you don't belong in any kind of command position."

Jameson lowered his head and let out a short breath.

"Wait…" Ramsey cut in. He did not want to tell Hamilton what had been on his mind, but he desired even less to see a punishment dished out on his friend who had done nothing wrong in this matter. Perhaps this had been Hamilton's plan from the start. If it was, he certainly deserved his rank.

"Something to say, Mr. Ramsey?"

"Yes sir. I… well… had my doubts about the mission, sir."

"Your …doubts?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, sir."

"Your _doubts_?" he asked again, raising his voice angrily.

"Yes, sir."

"Doubts are a luxury you cannot afford, soldier. Your job is to follow your orders. Do that long enough and well enough, and one day you may be granted the luxury of doubts." He retook his seat and swivelled slightly to one side, taking another puff of his cigar. He at least seemed to have calmed down now, thought Ramsey. "Pray tell," he began softly, "what were these doubts?"

"Erm, well sir… I was curious as to why we were sent in to arrest the Teen Titans." Hamilton nodded, prompting him to continue. "Well, we caught them at the scene of a crime, but that can't have been the justification for beginning this operation. I never heard of them doing anything bad before this…" He stopped in response to Hamilton's raised hand.

"You're new here, so I'm going to tell you this one time, and I don't expect ever to have to repeat it."

"Yes sir!"

"As I'm sure you're aware, I have access to intelligence above and beyond your clearance. As such, I am better able to make decisions that you are not. While you may not understand these decisions, I do expect you to trust that I am acting in the best interests of all of us. I'll give the orders, you concentrate on following them." He sat back in his chair and looked Ramsey over. "I was where you are once. I know it's not easy at first, just blindly following orders, but you've just got to buckle down and get on with it. Understand?"

"I do, sir."

"Right then," he said, eyeing them both, "you can go."

"Sir." They both stood to attention and saluted, followed by as sharp left turn. Jameson led out and Ramsey followed.

"See?" pointed our Ramsey as they relaxed outside Hamilton's office. "I knew he'd never tell me."

"_I_ still ain't tellin' you."

--------------------

Cyborg checked the watch on his wrist display. Without any windows or natural light, it was hard to guess the hour, let alone tell night from day.

Three hours. That was how long he had been locked away for now, although it seemed longer. With so little to do, time seemed to stretch out before him. If only he were tired, he would be able to rest. Although he did not need charging, he would have slept just to pass the time.

He looked around the room for some visual stimulation, but there was little to be had. The uniform, pale walls reflected slightly the light from the ceiling seemed to serve only to dull the mind.

"Damn, what I wouldn't give for some conversation," he grumbled to himself. "Even Beast boy would do." He had to admit, he missed his friend. He missed all of his friends. "Pull it together man," he scolded himself, "it's only been three hours. You've been away from them longer than this before."

He got up from his bed and started pacing up and down his cell. He had never really thought of himself as a pacer before, but it seemed to help relieve stress in this situation. Plus it was some exercise at least.

He strode over to the thick metallic door and peered through the thick glass that separated him from freedom. "Hmm," he murmured as he saw only one guard present. Although Robin had ordered them to give themselves up, plans to escape seemed to form in his mind almost involuntarily. Now for some reason unknown to him, they had not removed or sought to deactivate his sonic cannon. Perhaps they did not have the technical know how, or else felt that, since he gave himself up voluntarily, he would not use it. Either way, he had it, and this fact soon wormed its way into his escape plans.

Making his way to the opposite wall near the bed, he began to test the durability of the wall sections by applying a gentle pressure. As expected there was no give.

"What am I doing?" he sighed, sitting back down on his bed. "How am I supposed to escape without the others?" He rubbed his face with his hands, considering his situation. Even if he did escape, what would become of the others? Besides, the safety of the others aside, one of the main reasons they gave themselves up was to avoid a public relations disaster, so to escape now would most likely destroy that effort.

"Urgh," he grunted, shaking his head. He tried to think of something else. Something constructive. "Oh," he remembered, "the cloak!" No, that was no good. It was so far from important now, it barely warranted a stray thought.

He drummed his fingers on his knees, trying to think of something to think about. As much as he tried to swat it down, the Titans' current situation continued to surface. "Well," he sighed, "I guess I've got plenty of time to think about that."

--------------------

"I'll take the steak."

"What about you Ramsey?"

"I'm on basic…"

"Oh," grinned the rotund chef, "I've not had to make vege-slush for a while."

"Vege-slush?" enquired Ramsey.

"Yeah. Provides all the body needs by way of nutrients and… that stuff."

"Oh."

"Tastes like crap though," added Jameson.

"You questioning my cooking boy?" snapped the bearded chef.

"Of course not," Jameson raised his hands innocently.

"Right. Find yerselves a table and I'll bring it over when it's done."

"Sure thing chef," Jameson saluted in a mocking fashion.

"Kids," he grumbled, waddling through a swinging door into the kitchen. "Hey Andre, go through the bin and see if you can find a half decent cut," he yelled.

"Heh," chuckled Jameson. "Alright, let's get a table."

Fortunately, the large mess hall was relatively empty due to the late hour. Ramsey made his way toward one table close to their position.

"At least it's quiet," remarked Jameson, looking around.

"I guess. So what's this vege-slop like?"

"Oh, you're gonna love it," smiled Jameson. "It's kinda like a thick soup made from vegetables and some other stuff the chef won't say."

"…but it tastes like crap?"

"Yeah well, there's a downside to everything," Jameson shrugged. "You are on punishment, you know."

"Yeah yeah."

"So," Jameson sat forward attentively, "how'd it feel to smack that idiot Cropple?"

"Hmm," Ramsey thought, a grin creeping across his face. "Pretty good."

"Yeah I bet. So, you through with this whole evidence thing?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Erm…no."

"Well how would that change anything?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Maybe since Hamilton told you to leave it."

"Yeah, and?" he replied flippantly.

"And so did I," Jameson said firmly.

"Look," he laid his hands on the table and returned the serious expression. "I understand that questioning orders can be bad and lead to questions in judgement in the field."

"Uh huh."

"Yes, seriously," he replied to the cynical agreement. "I may not be experienced, but I can see how it would be a problem. I can even see how it is a problem in this case."

"Then why…"

"Because," Ramsey interjected swiftly, "I just can't shake the feeling that it's wrong. I need to be able to look myself in the face in the mirror and not look away in disgust."

"That's pretty dramatic Ramsey."

"Yeah well," he mumbled, feeling a little self conscious, "it's true…"

"Right and wrong are just convenient definitions anyway."

"Even so, I have to do what I believe is right."

Jameson raised an eyebrow at that comment. "What exactly do you plan to do?"

"Huh? Oh, I just meant that I would try and find out what the evidence was."

"Yeah, well you can't," concluded Jameson, folding his arms.

"Yeah, but you know," Ramsey pointed out.

"Uh uh man," he said, waving one finger, "I told you about this already. Twice. I ain't telling you what I know or whether or not I know it."

"I already know you know something."

"Yeah… well…" said Jameson, shifting awkwardly. "I still ain't saying, and also I told you not to put me in this position. It's more than my job's worth."

"Doesn't your conscience trouble you?" he probed. "Hmm, actually, I guess your conscience only wouldn't worry if you were totally heartless, or unless you knew the evidence, and you knew it was good."

Jameson declined to reply and avoided eye contact.

"That's it isn't it. The evidence is good, isn't it?"

"Hey now, I never said that," corrected Jameson.

"But that's it though, isn't it," he asked with a slight smile.

"What even makes you think I know anything?" he responded innocently.

"Oh come on, you can't pull that one now. It's pretty obvious you do know."

"Well come on, I am a senior in the unit. It hardly takes a genius."

"I see…" Ramsey nodded slowly, as if receiving unknown information. "Interesting…"

"Oh what, like this is news," he huffed.

"Then the next step is…"

"The next step is you leaving this alone," advised Jameson sternly.

"You know I'm not going to do that."

"And what if I ordered you?"

"Then I'd have to respectfully tell you to shove it where the sun refuses to shine, _sir_," he said, raising his right hand in a salute.

"Hmm," murmured Jameson, giving him a disapproving look.

"I still think you'll tell me."

"Oh really," said Jameson with a mild disbelieving amusement, "and how do you suppose you're going to manage that?"

"I think your conscience will make you talk."

Jameson looked down at his hands for a moment before casting his eyes over to the kitchen and raising his voice in that direction. "That steak's sure taking its time."

"Yeah," agreed Ramsey with a hint of sarcasm, "I can hardly wait for my vege-slop."

The swinging door burst open and something was thrown in their direction.

"What the…" began Ramsey, as the object slapped down onto the table. It looked like a half cooked cut of meat. A smile crept across his face as he realised it was…

"My steak!"

--------------------

A heavy clank and a metallic squeak called Beast boy's attention to the door of his cell. He sprang up from his bed to see the thick metal door open slowly. The door must have been a foot thick at least…

"Rations," said the first of three soldiers who stood in the doorway. He held a silver tray on which was some sort of food. The other two kept a close hold on their rifles, which were aimed in Beast boy's direction.

"…right," he nodded slowly, careful not to give the soldiers any cause to fill him full of holes.

The first soldier took several steps forward and placed the tray on the ground. Although this soldier was not familiar to Beast boy, he did notice that he wore the same uniform as the soldiers earlier, as did the other two.

"Umm…" he started, feeling a slight need for some social interaction.

"What is it?" asked the lead soldier.

"I'm vegan," he announced. "I hope that food is suitable."

"Oh," said the soldier, examining the food briefly. "I think you'll find this to your taste," he replied with a snide edge.

He turned and made his exit, sealing the thick door behind him.

Beast boy approached the tray apprehensively; unsure as to whether the soldier had been serious when he had said it was to his taste. After all, this was a prison, not a restaurant.

He picked it up and gave it a looking over. Although there were several grooved compartments on this metal tray, only two contained food. The first seemed to be some kind of vegetable stew. The other was two pieces of white bread. He set himself back down on his bed and rubbed his hands together.

"Hmm…" he mumbled, leaning a little closer to grasp the aroma. He shut his eyes and savoured it, trying to piece the overall flavour from the smell. It seemed to be predominantly cabbage and leek. Not entirely unpleasant, but a stone's throw from an ideal meal. Assuming that stone was a chunk of tofu in an otherwise meat rich dish, and the thrower was Cyborg.

"Alright then," he said, picking up the plastic fork and stabbing one of the larger chunks of vegetable. He held it up from the tray and let the water thin broth drip away. It looked like potato. It smelled liked potato.

"Hmm… potato," he announced, chewing away at it. His face slowly turned from a mild contentment to a slight grimace as the flavour took hold. As bland as it was on first taste, there was a definite kick to it. Still, he thought, at least there was bread to compliment this restaurant quality cuisine.

He chewed on one of the pieces of bread and considered his situation. In truth, thoughts of his situation had only subsided when the food had arrived, and now they had returned.

"So," he followed his chain of thought through verbally while crumbs spilled onto the sheets. The soldier Jameson had told him that they were all going to be held in the same place, and he did not seem like the type to lie. At least that was one good point in all of this. Maybe if there was an exercise yard or something he may get to see the others soon. This one burning hope was the only thing keeping him positive and he was going to hold onto that dearly.

Finishing the bread, he returned to the vegetable dish. Fortunately, his hunger allowed it to pass by a little easier.

What would Robin do, he asked himself as he chewed on a carrot like morsel. He thought on this issue for several minutes, before realising it was not a sensible question. Robin had made it clear that they were to give themselves up and do things through the system. No heroic escapes or daring plans this time. This was reality and it was like a hard brick wall.

He sighed and placed the tray down by the bed before laying back to rest. He shifted left and right, trying several different positions before concluding with certainty that this bed was far less comfortable than his own.

"Who am I kidding," he exhaled faintly. Whether this was the right thing to do or not was starting to feel quite unimportant. He was locked up in a strange place. There was nasty food and he faced the prospect of being in this place for a long time. He laid his head on the pillow and thought of better times.

He placed a hand over his face and sniffed loudly. He was fighting a losing battle against a quivering lip and tears, but that did not matter now. None of his friends were there to laugh at him or comfort him. He was very alone. That flame of hope he held on to so dearly was growing very dim now.

--------------------

If you're not reaching for the tissues now, you're not human, understand?! I even had to listen to extra sad music to get me in the mood for that last bit.


	11. As you can see, we have a problem

Posted on 16/11/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Sorry about the longer than usual delay on this one, I had various things to do which meant missing a few writing sessions. Actually, hey, it's only been two weeks. Quit complaining, you guys are lucky to have me.

Chapter eleven. This one's especially for you, dear reader. If you are reading this, please review. I'm only asking for a little something.

Man, it's 0533, so I'm not going to bluster on anymore. Read, and enjoy. Or don't.

--------------------

Chapter 11

Robin scrunched up his forehead and shielded his eyes from the light as they cracked open, slowly adjusting. He grunted, leaning forward and wiping his face.

"Ugh," he groaned, sitting up in his bed. His thoughts were somewhat disordered, but came together quickly, bringing his situation back with full force.

Casting off his sheets, he hung his legs from the side of the bed, wiping his eyes. Ordinarily, he would wake up at six o'clock in the morning and be considerably more alert than this; particularly during a dangerous or uncertain situation. This was such an unlikely lapse that he instinctively reached for his communicator to see the time. Perhaps it was too early to be getting up; it was hard to tell with the constant artificial light.

A moment of frustration passed before he remembered that all of his items had been confiscated.

He sighed and rose to his feet. Stumbling slightly at first, he made his way to the bathroom area of his cell. This comprised of a sink, a mirror, two taps and a toilet.

Peering into the mirror, he could see the fatigue peering right back. He squeaked one of the taps into a running position and filled the sink to half with cold water. The shimmering surface of the water seemed to provide a momentary distraction, and occupied him for several seconds.

Dismissing his new found and short lived interest in water, he cupped his hands together and splashed his face three times. Each splash seemed to shock him a little more, sharpening his senses.

He pulled the plug and fumbled around for a towel. There was none. "What, not even a towel?" he grumbled, wiping his eyes with his fingers.

His reflection was not the prettiest of sights. Slight bags under the eyes and a jaded expression told the story. His hair was a suitable epilogue, flowing out of control in all directions like some black bird's nest.

Using his hands to finish the drying, he ran the taps a little more and drank several mouthfuls to clear his coarse throat.

Stepping back over to his bed, he considered performing his morning exercise routine. Being in prison was no reason to get out of shape, especially as the cell provided enough room for exercise. But then, if it was too early, exercising now would prevent him from getting back to sleep. If only he knew the time.

Just as he was starting to doze where he sat, the sound of the door being unlocked caught his attention.

"Morning," he greeted absent mindedly.

"Good morning," returned the soldier, who carried a food tray.

"What's the time?" he asked.

"Oh seven hundred."

"I see. So… what's on the menu this morning?"

"Breakfast," came the humour free response.

"Right…" Robin nodded, watching the soldier make his exit.

"Oh," said the soldier, turning back into the cell, "there's someone coming to see you today."

"Huh?" Robin found himself a little more awake at that mention. Someone to see him?

"Yeah, I'll send them in shortly."

"Right," he acknowledged as the door locked shut.

Rising to his feet again, he moved over in the direction of the breakfast tray. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty hungry.

"Eggs, toast, fruit," he listed, inspecting the offering. It was a long way from what he would class as a hearty start to the day, but it would do. It would have to.

--------------------

"Hey, did you… whoa," Ramsey covered his nose with his hand, recoiling from a thick odour of sweat. "What the heck are you doing in here?"

Jameson stood up from a press up position, giving an indignant look. "I'm working out. You know, keeping myself fit? You should try it sometime."

"Smells overrated. Anyway, did you see this?" he asked, slapping his hand against the piece of paper her carried.

"Well that depends what it is," replied Jameson, somewhat vexed by the interruption. "You know you should knock in the future. I could have been naked."

"Seriously," Ramsey stressed.

"Alright, alright. So what is it?"

"Did you know we can be called in for guard duty?"

"You mean for the Titans?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well when were you planning on telling me?"

"I dunno man," Jameson shrugged. "It didn't seem that important."

"Not important?" He lowered the papers and looked at Jameson incredulously.

"Well not really. It's been decided that they need guards outside their cells at all times, and things are pretty quiet around here, so…"

"Yeah, but I'm a soldier, not a prison warden," Ramsey complained.

"It'll just be a shift here and there," he reassured.

"Have you ever _done_ a shift of watching a cell?"

"No… have you?"

"Well no, but several hours just stood there watching a cell isn't my idea of a good time. Hell, it doesn't even meet my idea of a bad time."

"Sorry man," he shrugged. "At least you'll be getting paid for it."

"Yeah, whatever." He took a seat on Jameson's bed and made himself comfortable. "Aaah."

Jameson looked down at him with disapproval. "Off the bed man, I just made it."

"Huh?" he responded lazily, his eyes closed.

"Come on, off the bed."

Cracking open one eye, Ramsey checked Jameson's expression. He was serious. "Psh, whatever man," he moaned, getting up at his leisure. "Not much of a host are you."

"Not really," Jameson responded flatly, correcting the creased sheets.

"So, does this order apply to you?"

He straightened up and checked the bed carefully. "Nope."

"How the hell did you get out of that one?"

"Well, by outranking you," he replied with a degree of smugness.

"My my," said Ramsey, shaking his head with a growing smirk. "This is a good example of power going to people's heads."

"Yeah right. And it can go to yours once you get to where I am."

"Well I still don't like it. In fact I don't even see the point of having guards outside their cells."

"Why's that?"

"Well," he explained, "since most of their abilities are innate, they're effectively fully armed. If they wanted to leave, I doubt a few guards would be able to stop them."

"I can't say I disagree with you…"

"So…"

"So," he continued, his expression showing his displeasure at being interrupted, "they're Hamilton's orders, not mine. Maybe he felt that, if they did decide to escape, the prospect of causing harm might make them think again."

"I think if they wanted to escape, they would just escape."

"Well I don't know," he said, raising his hands defensively. "I was just guessing."

"Well, I guess it's lucky they agreed for us to hold them, isn't it."

"I guess it is," he agreed.

"Yup, it's a conundrum," Ramsey surmised, rubbing his chin. "How do we keep them, I mean. If they decide want to be somewhere else."

"I'm sure Hamilton already thought about that one, so it's not our problem."

"It will be mine if I'm on duty when they decide to do it."

"Relax Ramsey," he said, patting his friend on the shoulder, "they're not gonna try and escape. They gave themselves up voluntarily. I was there."

"And if they find out they were brought in on some evidence that, as yet, not even all the soldiers have access to?"

Jameson took a very serious tone of voice. "They won't."

--------------------

Robin paced back and forth in his cell. He really should be keeping on schedule with his exercise routine, but something was bothering him. He knew that thinking who it was who was going to visit him would not change who it was or when they would come. Even so, he could not shake it from his thoughts.

The dull clunking of his boots against the metallic floor seemed to provide a rhythm for his thoughts, helping him to focus. Who would come and see him? Who would have had the ability to find out they were even incarcerated so quickly. He tried to quash the negative thoughts that arose, but they stuck truly. It was indeed possible that it was an enemy who had orchestrated this plan and was now coming for the final act. Possible, but not particularly likely.

The now familiar sound of keys turning in a lock caught his attention. This may be it.

The door rumbled open slowly, revealing four figures. Three of them were guards, but the fourth one seemed like more of a civilian. He was not physically imposing like the others, but his sharp attire certainly caught the eye. A sharp, grey suit, an expensive looking briefcase and a neatly trimmed haircut said this man was here for business.

"In you go, sir," said the lead soldier, gesturing with his hand.

"Yes, right," replied the man, who edged forward a little nervously. His entire demeanour told Robin that this man was not used to being led around by armed soldiers.

Taking a few steps toward the figure, Robin held out a hand. "Robin."

"Yes," nodded the man, smiling. He reached out and shook Robin's hand. "I know who you are."

"Okay… and you are…?"

"I'm Atticus Garrison, your lawyer." Robin noted that this man did not seem to speak with an astonishing amount of conviction. Still, he thought, it was surely his knowledge of the law that would be the ultimate test of him.

"Oh I see," he smiled. In honesty, he disguised his feeling of surprise. Seeing a lawyer this quickly? Perhaps it was the case that the military wanted to reach a speedy conclusion. Or perhaps it was further evidence of a plot. In either case, he should keep a poker face until he could be sure either way. "Please, sit down," he offered, motioning toward the bed.

"Thank you, I will."

He sat, setting his briefcase on his lap. "So… Mr. Robin."

"Mr. Garrison."

"As I mentioned, I am to be your lawyer," he said, clicking open his briefcase and sorting through some papers. "I have been given this task on the request of Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton."

"This Hamilton," began Robin, "is he the commanding officer of this facility?"

"I believe that to be the case."

"Could you tell me why I should expect to be given a suitable lawyer by the man who arrested me?" In reality, Robin held only slight suspicions about this Hamilton character, but probing this lawyer could offer some useful information. At the very least, his reply might give him some idea of his competence.

"Hm," said the lawyer, looking down for a moment and smiling. "You know, if I were you, I would have asked the exact same question."

"Then you would have considered the answer already."

"Indeed. The hard truth is, there is no way for you to be sure one way or the other. I could assure you that Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton is working inside the law, and that I am a fairly reputable lawyer that he sought to hire to defend you fairly. But then I could also tell you that the sky has turned purple since you were in here."

"So I guess I have to ask myself if I can trust you," concluded Robin.

"Precisely."

"But there's no way I can know."

"I know."

"Then how can I make a decision?"

"I wish I could offer you a further insight, but my knowledge of philosophy only goes far as an amateur interest." He took out a piece of paper from his briefcase, placing it atop, and resting on it a black pen from his inside pocket. "The law, however, now that is my profession."

"What's that?" enquired Robin, pointing to the document.

"In order for you to confirm you have accepted me to represent you legally, you must sign this form."

Robin took a moment to assess the man. His confidence level had grown steadily since he had entered, and he certainly seemed to be a man of intelligence. On the key question of trust, however, it was hard to tell. One thought occurred, which was both comforting and discomforting, was that if Hamilton had selected a lawyer with an agenda contrary to that of the proof of innocence of the Titans, rejecting Atticus Garrison would only result in some other lackey being appointed. Being backed into awkward corners seemed to be an unfortunate feature of recent events.

"Alright," he decided.

"Good. Just sign here," said Atticus, offering Robin the pen.

Taking the pen, and clicking it to the writing configuration, he skimmed over the document. He was certainly no legal expert, but his profession required certain knowledge of the workings of the legal system. With that came some experience with the way things tended to be put into writing. 'Legalese' was how they referred to it.

The document seemed to be nothing incriminating, nor overly complex to the point where he would need to study it to find out exactly what it was he was agreeing to. After a final pause, he committed his name to the paper.

"Alright," said the lawyer, tucking the form back inside his case. "Now we can get started."

"Okay. Where shall we begin?"

"Actually, there was something I thought you should see," he said, retrieving a newspaper from his case and handing it to Robin. "Notice the headline."

"Hm." Robin folded out the paper. "What the…"

"As you can see, we have a problem."

"Someone's leaking details to the press."

--------------------

Jameson was busy working on the important task that faced him in the form of a double helping of fried breakfast, when he was interrupted by a newspaper slapping down on the table beside him. He gave it a moment's consideration before ignoring it in favour of the crispy bacon.

"Well?" prompted a miffed Ramsey.

"No," he replied with a half full mouth, "you can't have any."

"I didn't mean that, I meant the paper."

Jameson eyed it with suspicion, before continuing his meal. "What about it?"

Ramsey leaned over and folded open the paper, revealing the headline. "There," he said, pointing to the main story.

"What the…" began Jameson. He put down his knife and fork and picked up the paper, looking around to see who else was in the vicinity. Fortunately, the soldiers that were nearby seemed preoccupied with their chow. "Alright then," he straightened the paper and started to read through.

"I don't know how they did it," whispered Ramsey.

Jameson stopped reading and folded up the paper, placing it under his arm. He had read enough. "Did you show anyone else this?"

"No, I only got it just now…"

"Right." He pushed his plate away and rose to his feet, quickly surveying the hall.

"Hey," Ramsey raised his whisper. "Are you just going to take that?"

"Yeah. I think Hamilton needs to see this."

"Fine," moaned Ramsey. "You just take my stuff."

"You'll get it back. Later."

--------------------

Raven was laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of the previous day's events still troubled her, but she was getting nowhere fast. The lack of irrefutable evidence meant that she was left with only circumstances and suspicions to determine whether this was a set up. In her mind, these factors did point to the affirmative, but she was wiser than to make such definite judgements based on something so uncertain. It would have to remain a hunch for now.

An unusual commotion outside the door caused her to sit up. Unusual in the sense that there had been no commotion of any kind up until this point. In fact, the door was so thick that she barely heard anything from outside. If, indeed, there had been anything going on outside.

There was that familiar clank as the door was slowly opened. A thought passed that this prison experience was all rather inconvenient, not least from a privacy perspective, whereby she enjoyed it only to the degree decided by someone else.

As the door opened, three figures were revealed. Two of them were definitely guards. The large guns gave that away. The other she had not seen before. It was a woman, small and probably middle aged as far as Raven could tell.

"Hi," she greeted cheerily.

Raven looked her over for several moments before returning the greeting. "Hello." Although the lab coat and clip board gave some indication, it was difficult for Raven to figure out this woman's purpose. She was just going to have to go along with it for now. As if she had a choice.

The woman approached the bed and offered a friendly hand. Raven looked at it for a moment and considered the gesture. Well, there was no harm in that, she figured.

Coming to her feet, Raven dusted herself off before turning to the woman. She reached her hand out somewhat tentatively, where it was grasped and shook thoroughly. "Raven, isn't it?"

"That's me," she confirmed. As friendly as this woman seemed, Raven made a conscious decision to extend to her co-operation only as far as she deemed necessary. After all, this woman was still a part of that system and most likely entertained a sympathetic, if not fully co-operative, agenda.

"Alright," she said, turning to the soldiers who still tended the open door. "That will be all."

"Yes ma'am," responded the soldier to the left, who began to close the door.

"So," began the woman with a hopeful raising of her eyebrows.

"So…"

"Dr. Emily Harvey," she introduced with a smile, which dropped a little as a moment of silence extended.

"Well then," she continued, "let's get on."

"Get on with what?"

"Oh, nothing to worry about," she replied in a reassuring tone. "I'm just here to look you over."

Raven took one half step back, not quite sure what exactly was about to transpire. "Is this… just a medical check up?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, nothing more than that."

"Oh… right. Don't you need instruments for that?"

"It's just a basic check up." On seeing Raven's concerned expression, she explained further. "I'm just here to take your temperature, your pulse, see if you have any injuries. Pretty much make sure you're alive."

She seemed to make a habit of using that comforting smile, Raven noted. This must have come from either a Starfire like personality or years of practise with subjects a lot more fearsome that her. She was still telling herself that revealing too many of her thoughts and feelings to this woman could prove costly, and so resisted the urge, even if it was slight, to reflect her facial expressions and open body language.

"You know, I'm also here to take a measurement of your psychological well being," she said soberly, taking close account of Raven's grim façade.

"Don't put me on suicide watch just yet," she responded with as little emotion as she knew how. Perhaps the ability to shield her emotional response would prove advantageous after all.

"No… don't worry about that," she returned a more cautious smile that her earlier efforts. Raven could see that she was trying to tread a fine line of response between realising a joke and acknowledging a very serious situation.

"Well then doctor, please proceed."

--------------------

"What can I help you with sergeant?" asked Hamilton, who was preoccupied reading over a report on his desk.

"I brought you something I thought you should see, sir."

Hamilton sighed and closed the report, looking up at Jameson. "Alright then soldier, what do you have?"

Jameson took the newspaper from under his arm and placed it on the desk.

"Hmm, a newspaper eh?" Hamilton said, pulling it toward him and opening it out.

"Yes sir."

"Well now," he mused, scanning over the headline. Jameson judged that he may have been surprised by what he read, based on the rather speedy change in demeanour. "Where did you get this?"

"One of the men on base brought it to my attention."

"Who?"

Jameson paused for a moment. He had hoped simply handing over the newspaper would be the end of this, since surely the important point was that someone in the know was leaking information, and not that said information was known on base.

"I would recommend strongly against keeping me in suspense, sergeant."

"Private Ramsey, sir," he blurted out. He regretted it instantly.

"Hmm." Hamilton leaned back into his chair, leaning his nose on interlocked fingers and thinking.

Jameson occupied the silence with thoughts that, despite not having heard or read any media censorship regulations on base, he may just have put Ramsey in hot water. He was not exactly Hamilton's favourite after all, following the doubts he raised over following orders.

"Well, it's nothing for you to worry about," said Hamilton finally.

"Sir?"

"This matter is under control," he said firmly.

"Yes sir."

"In addition, I would request you do not discuss this with anyone."

"I… don't understand."

Hamilton leaned forward and placed his hands on the newspaper. "You do not have to, sergeant."

Jameson puffed out his chest and saluted sharply. "Yes sir."

"Good, now see your way out."

--------------------

"So, when you arrived, the person was already dead," confirmed Atticus, busily scribbling notes.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure…"

The lawyer looked up from his notes, bearing a quizzical expression. "But he was laid and not moving, right?"

"I wasn't the first one on the scene."

"Oh, yes," remarked Atticus, flicking back through some notes. "That was… Raven, correct?"

"Yeah, she got there first."

"Did you not talk to her about it at the time?"

"Not really… I don't think…" he looked to the ground, trying to recall that specific event. "No, no she didn't," he answered with a firm nod of the head.

"I see. So, then, how long was it between Raven discovering the body and your arrival?"

"I can't have been more than five minutes. I would say two or three."

"Okay," he acknowledged, "and you say you weren't sure if he was dead when you got there."

"No." Robin turned to walk around the cell, as if helping him order his thoughts. "I arrived with Cyborg, and the other Titans were there."

"Mm hmm."

"I ordered Raven to check the body to see if there was anything she could do, and then ordered Starfire to call an ambulance with her communicator."

"So did she?"

"No. That was when the soldiers arrived."

"Hmm…" Atticus put his pen down and rubbed his nose. "They arrived right away?"

"Yes. We didn't have time to examine the body."

"Did you not find that a little… convenient?" he intoned.

"I was more concerned with being surrounded by men with guns," he replied flatly.

"Hm," smiled Atticus. "I guess you would be."

"Why, do _you_ think it was convenient?"

"I do think it was convenient," he admitted, "but whether that shows any wrong doing is another matter."

"I suppose. They did say they were there as a back up option for us."

"Interesting." Atticus resumed his note taking, the pen grinding noisily against the surface of his briefcase through the paper. "I've never heard of that myself."

"No, me neither."

"Did you believe it?"

Robin shrugged. "I wasn't sure whether to believe it or not. The commander…"

"You mean Hamilton?"

"Yes, I think that was him. He said they kept themselves low key so as not to make us complacent. I suppose I could see his point."

"But he had no trouble telling about it at that juncture," pointed out Atticus.

"I suppose. But he could hardly keep it a secret at that stage," he reasoned.

"No, I suppose not. I will try and find out what I can from Hamilton, but I've found that, in situations like these, information can be hard to come by. Particularly sensitive information."

"Have you had any luck on those previous occasions?"

Atticus cracked a wry smile. "I've got some tricks up my sleeve. But," he proceeded more seriously, "from what I've seen of this Hamilton, he's going to be a tough nut to crack."

"Yeah, he seemed pretty together."

"I can imagine. So," he changed tone back to business, "he managed to talk you into giving yourselves up."

"Yes, he did."

"With the events, weren't you concerned about the possibility of a set up?"

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were interested in facts, not speculation."

"Your thoughts and motivations for acting at that time are facts," he pointed out.

"Hm. Okay. Well, the short answer is that I was."

"Yet you gave yourself, and your team, up."

Robin nodded solemnly. "As the leader, I had to make that call. I also had to weigh that along with the fact that we were heavily outnumbered. I know this could all be a set up, and I know you could be a part of it."

Atticus looked up from his notes, trying to appear sincere. "Well, it's unlucky if I am because I'm all you've got right now."

Robin let out some pent up breath and allowed himself a small smile. "Yeah, I'll be in real trouble."

"So… let's get back to the matter of Beast boy's communicator."

"What do you want to know?"

--------------------

Ramsey was laid back on his bed, enjoying a well needed relaxation break. Having just finished his punishment laps in the exercise yard, he felt it was well justified. Even though it was the middle of the morning, his eyes were starting to feel like lead weights.

"Aaah," he exhaled contentedly. This was one of the benefits of being lucky enough to have a single room.

A gentle rapping at the door caused him to grumble. Who the heck could that be? He was not due to report for duty for several hours and he certainly was not expecting anyone.

A repeat of the knocking caused him to sit up and rub his face. "Jameson, I'm not on duty yet. Leave me alone."

"It's not Jameson."

"Holy sh-" he whispered to himself as he scrambled to his feet. He knew that voice very well.

Using his hands, he combed his hair into some sort of presentable form. "Come in, sir," he called.

The door clicked open and in stepped Hamilton. Ramsey stood to attention at the side of his bed. Hopefully he would overlook the fact that he was dressed only in a shirt and boxer shorts.

"At ease," he nodded, closing the door behind him.

"Sir," acknowledged Ramsey, shifting his feet uneasily.

"I'll get right to my point. I believe you've seen this before," he said, holding up a familiar looking newspaper.

"Um… yes sir, that looks familiar, sir."

"Can I ask you how you came to be in possession of this newspaper, private?"

"Erm, well sir…" Ramsey started nervously. The fact that Hamilton had come down in person meant that this was serious.

"Yes, private?" he prompted.

"Yes sir," he continued. "My father sends me newspapers once a week, sir."

"Your father…?"

"Yes, sir."

"Interesting," he said, taking a brief survey of the room.

Clearly finding nothing of interest, he turned his attention back to Ramsey. "Do you think it was wise to bring such a publication on base?"

Ramsey considered the question for a moment. If he was honest, he considered it neither wise nor unwise, but that answer would not suit, since the question was clearly rhetorical. Evidently, Hamilton was of the view that it was unwise and was simply seeking Ramsey's agreement. As for why and where this was leading, Ramsey would just have to wait and see. "I am aware of no base regulation prohibiting such materials, sir," he replied.

"Are you quoting base regulations to _me_ private?"

"Um… well sir," he responded, hoping for a flash of inspiration.

"Well," started Hamilton, realising an answer may be a while coming, "since we are both familiar with base regulations, we know that, under the letter of the law, you are allowed this sort of material on base." He held up the newspaper. "I am assuming you would agree?"

"Yes sir, I would."

"But you are also aware that there are regulations regarding the so called reasonable conduct of soldiers on the base, are you not?"

"I am sir." Ramsey was very unsure as to where this was leading.

"I believe that the content of this particular newspaper would cause those two regulations to come into conflict. Now I'm sure you're aware that newspapers often embellish and sensationalise stories in order to sell issues. Are you following me?"

"Yes sir."

"These embellishments may lead to factual errors and inconsistencies, which may in turn lead to potential misinformation, particularly if not all the facts were in place when the story was written. Since I doubt this particular publication could have been in possession of all of the facts, would you find it a reasonable conclusion that the story may not necessarily be entirely true?"

"…yes sir." Ramsey had heard stray rumours that Hamilton had started his career in the legal profession, but was never quite sure whether to believe it. In light of this performance, he was more than inclined to take that view.

There was one niggling question in his mind. If Hamilton was seeking to justify something, why was he justifying it to him? Usually he would just dish out the orders and expect them to be carried out.

"I would say that it would not be consistent with the actions of a responsible soldier to bring incorrect and potentially harmful information on to the base. Or, indeed, in this case, keep that information around once it has been received," he concluded, looking to Ramsey for a response.

"I suppose not, sir."

"And would you say you are a responsible soldier, private?"

"Yes sir, I would say so, sir."

"Good. Continue to act responsibly."

"I will, sir."

Hamilton gave an almost informal salute and turned to make his exit.

The door closed softly, leaving Ramsey to ponder what had just happened. Resting himself on the bed once more, he ran his hands though his hair, exhaling the pent up tension throughout his body. Had Hamilton just asked him to shield the information from the newspaper?

--------------------

"So that's everything?" asked Robin.

"For now." The lawyer's briefcase came to a close with a distinct click.

"Who are you going to see next?"

"Hmm," he replied, thinking for a moment. "I think I will need to talk to Mr. Hamilton next. Then probably Beast boy."

"What about the leak?"

Atticus shrugged. "Those sorts of things tend to require a lot of time and patience."

"Does that mean you're not going to look in to it?"

"I'd like to… but you are my main priority," he explained.

"No," said Robin, his voice slightly raised. "If information is being leaked, then we may have someone with an agenda."

"Yes, and we may have a soldier in need of some quick money."

Robin locked eyes with the lawyer for a moment before giving a grudging nod. "Sorry, it's not my place to tell you how to do your job… but it's so frustrating… just sitting here in this cell while my fate is decided by others."

"I know. You're just going to have to believe me when I say I'm going to do the best that I can here. I have experience in this sort of thing, you know," he said with a brief smile.

--------------------

"Okay, well that's all the physical tests out of the way," explained the doctor, to Raven's relief. Even though she had nothing to do and nobody else to talk to, this was still starting to become an inconvenience.

"Don't let me keep you."

She smiled, but her eyes looked at Raven more seriously. "I still have to assess your mental health."

Raven looked either way, as if not sure what to expect. "How do you intend to do that?"

"Actually, it's been an ongoing process throughout the course of this examination."

"Okay. And?"

"Well," she started, showing amusement at Raven's overtly hostile front. "I think you're just fine. A little displeased, I think. Possibly from being in here, but an adverse reaction to that is not uncommon."

"I can't imagine too many people would be jumping for joy in my situation," she responded with a definite hint of sarcasm.

"Good to see you still have a sense of humour. I believe that to be very important."

"You're in the wrong place if you think funny is good."

"Hm," she smiled once again. "I think you shouldn't have a difficult time here."

Raven grumbled under her breath, but nothing was audible. She had meant to give as little away to this woman as possible, but it seems she got what she came for and more besides.

"Perhaps you should give thought to this career yourself," she suggested. Raven raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You would definitely be at an advantage with your abilities."

Raven tried to hide a momentary look of surprise. It was unlikely that that statement was not deliberate. Did she know something? "I already have a career, doctor."

"Of course."

--------------------

Ramsey poked at his vege-slop suspiciously. He skewered a piece of what appeared to be potato with his fork and guided it through the rest of the chunks.

"Don't play with your food," said Jameson with a mouth half filled with what looked like a very tasty curry dish.

"That's easy for you to say," Ramsey complained. "I mean, at least yours is edible."

Jameson shrugged and shovelled another forkful into his mouth, chewing loudly.

"Close your mouth while you eat… and don't talk with your mouthful." Ramsey watched the curry with envy. He might be less irritable if he were not so dissatisfied with his own lunch.

Jameson made an effort to share the contents of his mouth before smiling and returning to his meal.

Ramsey grunted and returned to concentrating on his own plate. He would have called Jameson childish, but he knew he was only doing that because of his irate mood. It had not even been a day and already he was hating this vege-slop.

"It's not even been a day yet," he moaned.

Jameson polished off his plate and pushed it to one side. "Well, you gotta do the time if you do the crime."

"Punching Cropple was probably the best thing I did so far."

"Yeah well, you gotta play by the rules." Jameson sat back and let out a contented belch. "Oh yeah, that hit the spot."

"I bet," grumbled Ramsey.

"That was nice, Joe," he called over behind him.

"Cram it, I'm busy," came the reply.

"He's got a lot of love to give," smirked Jameson.

"What, Joe?"

"Yeah."

Ramsey shrugged. "Always seems pretty grumpy to me."

Jameson leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "It's just a front."

"How can you be sure? He might just be miserable through and through."

"Nah," he replied confidently. "See, if he was like that, there would be venom in his insults, if he even cared enough to insult at all. Some people are like that. They just work on a different level most of the time."

"Right…"

Jameson glanced at Ramsey's barely touched meal. "I'd recommend you eat that."

"I was thinking of sneaking in here later and grabbing something nicer."

"You're going to tell the _sergeant_ that you intend to break the rules?"

"No, I'm telling my friend."

"Your friend who is also the sergeant," reminded Jameson sternly.

"You're no fun. And by the way, you owe me a new paper."

"Huh?"

"Hamilton won't give me it back, and you took it, so that means you owe me a new one," Ramsey explained.

"Sorry man," said Jameson, raising his hands. "Not my fault."

"See, here's where we disagree."

"How's that?"

"Because it _is_ your fault."

"Do I have it? No. Hamilton does."

"Did you take it? Yes. You owe me a new one."

"Well I can't get one, so either way you're not getting your paper," Jameson replied with a certain smug satisfaction. "Anyway, who says he won't give you it back?"

"Well, he did."

"Hamilton told you that?" asked Jameson with no small degree of surprise.

Ramsey lowered his voice and checked around their table. "Well not in so many words, but he made it clear he wasn't happy with me bringing it onto the base."

Jameson rubbed his chin. "You sure? I wouldn't expect Hamilton to break the rules so obviously."

"Well, he didn't _say that_ in so many words."

"What did he say?"

"He…" Ramsey checked around again. "He implied that it was troublesome for me to have that newspaper on the base."

"Psh," hissed Jameson, clearly giving the claim little credence.

"He did," Ramsey defended. "He started talking about how the media freedom was sometimes at odds with the regulations about responsible soldiering, and that he hoped I was the responsible type."

Jameson scrunched his face a little, weighing up the story. "You sure?"

"Positive, man. He was hinting all over the place. Did you know that he was a lawyer?"

"No, I didn't. Where did you hear that?"

"Well, I heard it around…"

"Right. Well, don't believe everything you hear."

"Either way, he all but censored the media, without actually doing it. What did he say when you took him the paper."

"Oh that. Well…" he began, shifting his weight several times.

"Can't talk about it huh?"

"Not really. But I will say he didn't beat around the bush about it. I'm still surprised that he was like that with you."

"Doesn't matter. Well, it does, but if you ask me, we have some new facts here." Jameson shook his head and sighed. "Seriously. So you didn't tell me what you and him talked about, but I think he was telling you not to tell anyone about the newspaper either."

Jameson remained silent.

"You know you can tell me because I'm one of the few people who already knows what was in the paper, so there's no danger there."

"…look, maybe he did." Ramsey grinned. "Either way, we can't talk about it, so nothing changes."

"If you ask me, it deepens the saga. He could be keeping it secret because he ordered someone to leak it."

"I dunno man, he looked surprised when he saw it."

"Hm. Well, maybe he was surprised that someone on the base had access to that information." He stopped to think for a moment. "And maybe," he continued with refreshed determination, "he was worried we'd put two and two together and realise there is probably a leak somewhere. I mean how could the information have gotten out so fast?"

Jameson stroked his stubble and considered the point. "Well you do have a point there," he conceded. "But then, he may have another reason for choosing to hide the information.

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Well, the Titans gave themselves up voluntarily."

"Yeah…"

"And if they really wanted to escape, we would have trouble stopping them."

"Go on…"

"Well, if they find out their name is being dragged through the papers…"

"Oh yeah," Ramsey said, as if he had just remembered something of importance. "The PR thing, right?"

"Exactly. Hamilton might be worried that they would be more likely to try to escape if they found out."

"Hmm." Ramsey mulled over the argument for a moment. "That's a good point too, but it doesn't explain how quickly the press got a hold of this."

Jameson shrugged. "It's the press. And it's the Teen Titans. It would pay big time to the person who got this scoop."

"Well, you think your way, and I'll think mine."

--------------------

Well then, that's that. Just review, that's all. Just review.


	12. Cleanliness is next to

Posted on 05/12/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Wow, if you thought the last one was late, this represents a new standard. I don't know what it was, I just lost my way for a while and didn't write anything for like six days.

Shout to my man TrollHammer. It's odd to know someone through a friend (if you can call her that) and have him turn out to be a fellow TT fic writer.

Well then, on with chapter twelve. The critics are calling it the twelfth chapter.

--------------------

Chapter 12

Starfire shook the new lady's hand energetically. She was not entirely sure who this person was, but she seemed nice in the few moments she had known her. In addition, she was one of the first non soldiers she had seen in some time.

"Starfire I presume," smiled the woman, happy to have her hand shaken for as long as Starfire wished to shake it.

"Yes," beamed back Starfire. Robin would most likely have reprimanded her to being so familiar with a stranger in this uncertain situation. However, in her defence, she would have pointed out that firstly, manners cost nothing, and that secondly, it was the information she gave away that would prove far more important.

"Well I'm Emily Harvey. I am a doctor who is here to examine you."

"Oh…" said Starfire, looking slightly concerned.

"I'm sorry, is that a problem?"

"Oh no…" she regained her amiable composure. "Not at all."

"Hmm…" The doctor had clearly picked something up, but she let on no further than a suspicious glance.

"Please… what does this examination entail?"

"Nothing to worry about," she said in a very reassuring manner. "Just some simple vital signs."

"Such as?" Starfire interjected.

"Well, your temperature and your pulse rate. Also if you picked up any injuries along the way."

"Very well," nodded Starfire, as if to accept the proposal. "Please proceed." Fortunately, the similarities between humans and Tamaraneans were numerous enough for her to pass for one under certain tests.

Starfire watched the doctor lock eyes with her for a moment.

"I'm sorry," apologised the doctor, breaking the eye contact. "You have the most unusual eyes."

Starfire's eyes widened in a look of panic. "Oh… really…" she tried to sound unfazed.

"Yes. Most unusual. Do you know how they came to be that way?"

"Um…" Starfire raised a finger to her chin to assist in the thinking process. She recalled discussing the issue of blending in with Robin at some point. What was it he had said? "Oh," she clapped her hands together, "it was a defect of birth."

"Uh huh…" the doctor nodded slowly. Starfire's gleeful expression changed to a rather sheepish look. Perhaps her skills of concealment could use a little practise.

"Well," she shrugged. "Shall we proceed?"

"Oh yes, do proceed."

The doctor gestured an arm toward the bed. "Perhaps we should sit down?"

"Yes," smiled Starfire, allowing the doctor to go first. "Let us sit."

"Aaah," exhaled the doctor as she made herself comfortable on the surprisingly well made bed. "You know, it is rare to see people making their beds so well in here."

"Why thank you," beamed Starfire. "Cleanliness is next to Uk'tar."

"Sorry? Next to… what?" asked the doctor, a blank expression on her face.

"Oh, that is just a saying," explained Starfire, quite oblivious.

"I thought it was… never mind." She shook her head and took a pen from her top pocket. "Well. Are you suffering from any injuries?"

"I am not."

"Any medical conditions I should know about? Anything you require medication for?"

"Umm…" Starfire pondered for a moment. "Nothing of which I am aware."

The doctor continued, going through questions she had clearly asked a hundred times. "Have you required hospital care in the last six months?"

Starfire considered the question carefully. She had been injured, but that had been minor and they had treated it in the tower infirmary. In addition, Robin had told her to always be careful to give away as little important information as possible if captured.

"I have not," she replied calmly.

--------------------

"Hey Donaldson," grinned Ramsey as he slapped the stocky bearded man firmly on the back.

The man stopped his assault on a large, leathery punching bag and turned to Ramsey. "Hey Ramsey," he puffed.

"Where've you been keeping yourself?"

"Oh you know," he said, picking up a towel from the floor and wiping his brow. "Here and there."

"Here and there eh…" Ramsey nodded, rubbing his chin. "I've been there, I think."

Donaldson smiled widely and shook his head. "How've you been keeping Ramsey?"

"So so… so so," he shrugged lightly.

"Keeping fit?"

"Oh yeah."

"Huh," Donaldson pondered, "I don't remember seeing you in the gym much."

"Oh what, you're in here _all_ the time?"

"Nah, I ain't here all the time," he conceded. "So when do you come in?"

"Well, not very often to be honest."

"Oh right," Donaldson raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Actually, err," Ramsey pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "I do laps every morning."

"Oh. Well that's good I suppose."

"Not really. It's part of my punishment."

"Oh, I think I heard about that one."

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully. It was nice to be noticed by his contemporaries, even if it was for this.

"Yeah… some of the guys were saying you got called in front of Hamilton for something."

"Well, I guess it's nice to be famous for _something_."

"I dunno man. I wouldn't want to be in Hamilton's bad books."

"Psh," said Ramsey in a confident manner, waving it off. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Well then now you've got me interested, _private_," intoned Donaldson.

"Sorry buddy," replied Ramsey with a wry smile. "You'd have to go to Hamilton for that."

Donaldson looked Ramsey up and down, rubbing his chin. "Well, I wouldn't want to get above my station…"

Ramsey felt a nice warm feeling of satisfaction that he had information that somebody else wanted. Particularly when that person had information he wanted. In his mind, it was not exactly an even trade, but if he could play this just right, fortune may favour him. "Yeah, it's a bit delicate. Hamilton even came over to my room earlier."

"Nah…" he dismissed.

Ramsey waited and watched Donaldson's curiosity get the better of him.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Well…?"

"I might be for the chop if Hamilton finds out…"

"Well then," Donaldson leaned in a little closer, "it'll just be between us."

Ramsey raised a suspicious eyebrow. Chances are that if he told him, it would not remain a secret for very long. Still, there was information he wanted, so he would have to play the game.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to reason out a difficult decision. "Alright," he said finally. "I suppose I can tell you."

Donaldson smiled broadly, nodding in approval. "You can trust me," he reassured.

"Actually, maybe there's something you can help me with first…"

His smile dropped. "What?" he asked with a cynical tone.

"You were with the group that was in the warehouse when we arrested the Teen Titans, right?"

"Sure…"

"Well, I've been really curious since then. What did Hamilton say to get them to give themselves up?"

"Hmm…" Donaldson weighed up the options. "Well, I suppose you were on the team anyway…"

"Yeah, true."

Donaldson shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose I can tell you. Don't tell anyone it was me that said though."

"My lips are sealed."

"Well, as far as I remember, he just told them that we'd have to take them in to prove their innocence." Ramsey looked sceptical. "They talked amongst themselves for a bit and then came with us. I'm glad they didn't put up a fight…"

"But what did he tell them about why you were there? I mean you just showed up on the scene… a little convenient wasn't it?"

"Oh right, yeah. He said we were a back up group for them."

"Wait… back up for the Titans?"

"Yeah," he confirmed with a swift nod. "He said that they never knew about us because that could have led to complacency on their part."

"Not a bad plan."

"Worked pretty well. Now," he grinned broadly, "your turn."

"Fine."

--------------------

"Atticus Garrison I presume," greeted Hamilton, rising from his seat.

"Lieutenant Colonel Charles Hamilton." Atticus took a step forward and shook the offered hand.

"Please…" Hamilton said, gesturing a hand to the chair opposite his own.

"Thank you." He pulled back the chair a little and took a seat. His eyes wandered briefly around the office and desk.

"Well then," began Hamilton, sinking into his own seat, causing it to groan. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, as you know, I'm here to represent the Teen Titans, which you are holding."

Hamilton's posture remained relaxed, almost complacent. He seemed to be paying more attention to the box of cigars on his desk than to the lawyer. "Smoke?" he offered.

"Thank you, no. As I was saying," he continued, bearing a slight concern at the apparent lack of interest, "I am here to ensure my clients receive a fair trial."

Hamilton's left eyebrow raised. "Are you trying to say something, Mr. Garrison?"

"I said what I meant to say, Lieutenant Colonel," he replied, careful to stand his ground while not appearing defiant.

"Hmm. So, I believe you have spoken with the leader of the group."

"Yes, I have."

Hamilton leaned back in his chair. "Are you satisfied we are not mistreating them in any way?"

"From what I have seen so far." He placed his briefcase on the desk, clicking it open. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may."

"Please," said Hamilton, slightly amused at the impudent attitude of the man who came on to his base and was expecting him to answer questions.

Atticus took out several sheets of paper and scanned over them quickly. Hamilton tapped two fingers on his desk. "Firstly, can you tell me exactly what they stand accused of?"

"I believe I already communicated this when I called you. Murder."

"Right, but to clarify, which of them is it you are accusing of murder?"

"They were all there at the scene of the crime, Mr Garrison," he answered, his patience starting to evaporate.

"So you don't know who did it," he stated with an honest tone and a careful allusion to a questioning of competence.

Hamilton's fingers ceased tapping and he allowed himself a hint of a smile. He knew what was being asked here. "At the scene, there were five people and one body," he stated calmly.

"So…"

"The body," he said, speaking over Atticus, "is being examined as we speak."

"Alright then. Let's say that the body indicates that one of them," Atticus hypothesised.

"Okay," agreed Hamilton, unsure of where this was leading.

"Would you release the others?"

"Ah," he nodded, considering the argument. "In that case, I would have one murderer and four potential accessories."

"So that's a no then?"

"That is a no, Mr. Garrison."

Atticus sat back in his chair and studied another page of his notes. "Another question. According to Robin, the Titans were several feet from the body when you discovered them."

"Actually, the girl Raven was somewhat closer," he corrected.

"Hm," Atticus mumbled, scribbling something down. "And the communicator that was found on the body was that of Beast boy?"

"We believe so…"

"I'm just curious. How do you think the communicator came into the possession of this man?" As Hamilton considered his response, Atticus continued. "Perhaps you imagine he, whoever he was, snatched Beast boy's communicator, and that Raven was trying to retrieve it?" His tone implied a disbelief in the story, as good as challenging Hamilton to offer a more logical solution.

Hamilton rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking down at the desk. "As you know," he said, returning his eyes to meet Atticus', "that is speculative."

"Yes," agreed Atticus. "I'm taking the facts I know and attempting to piece together that which I do not know. Surely you have done the same."

"Perhaps you could explain to me the relevance of this line of questioning."

Atticus raised his eyebrows slightly, having not expected to be put on the defensive. "Well," he began, "your suspicions dictate your actions in this investigation. For instance, you did not _see_ the Titans kill this man, but you are working on the basis that they might have done."

Hamilton bore a look of increasing exasperation. "Well yes, naturally I am working on _some_ suspicions, but you are hardly going to be able to build your case on my arresting five people with potentially dangerous powers at the scene of a murder where nobody else was in the vicinity as being inappropriate."

"Well the point I was trying to make…"

"I know what your _point_ was, Mr. Garrison," he growled, coming toward the end of his patience, "and clearly I am using my experience to deal with some of the unknowns of this case. Should my suspicions, in addition to the circumstantial evidence thus far, turn out to have lead my incorrectly, I shall act accordingly. Now do you have any sensible questions for me or not?"

"… yes, there are still some questions," Atticus answered after several moments of silence.

"Right then," said Hamilton, straightening his jacket. "What is the next one?"

Atticus reached back into his briefcase and took out the newspaper, placing it on Hamilton's desk. He looked at Atticus, then at the paper, keeping an almost straight face. "What do you know about this," he asked, gesturing to the newspaper.

"Hmm." Hamilton reached forward and picked it up, scanning over the front page. Atticus tried to read Hamilton's reactions. If he was surprised, he was hiding it well.

"Yes," he said after a few moments, placing the paper down, "I've seen it."

"But what do you know of it?"

"I am not sure exactly what you are trying to get at, Mr. Garrison."

Atticus let out a small breath. Typically, it was a good tactic to give one's subject just enough rope with which to hang themselves. It was very clear by now that Hamilton was not going to play that game. "How do you suppose the press came to get hold of this story? It would have to have been a day at most between the events and this paper getting the story."

"Are we back to speculation again, Mr. Garrison?" he replied with a light dusting of smugness.

"A speculation based on my suspicions and circumstantial evidence so far," he said, repeating the officer's words.

Hamilton narrowed his eyes, nodding slowly. "Alright. Well I don't know of any journalists hiding on the base."

"So you suspect a leak."

"…perhaps."

"The question is, was it a disgruntled soldier… or did someone give an order…"

"Is there a question in there somewhere for me, Mr. Garrison?" he asked impatiently.

Atticus considered the implications of accusing a military officer of leaking information, but decided his best option was to play his cards now, while Hamilton was still on the back foot. "Do you know of an order to have this information released?"

Hamilton shook his head slowly and deliberately. "No, Mr. Garrison, I do not."

"So you think…"

"We've been over this already, Mr. Garrison. In regards to this specific question, I can tell you that, to my knowledge, no order was given to release that information. That could mean a whole number of possibilities, which I shall leave you to speculate upon at your own leisure."

"You mean…"

"I mean that I have a base to run, Mr. Garrison, and that occupies the vast majority of my time. If you wish to continue this discussion, you shall have to arrange another time."

"Well then… thank you for your time."

"Not at all."

--------------------

Raven tapped her fingers on the bed sheets impatiently. As she mulled over her plan, she had become aware that she had started to bite one of her fingernails. She pulled it away from her mouth and gave a look of mild disgust. That was a new habit she did not want to encourage.

She exhaled and scanned the room. Nothing seemed to provide inspiration, but it was more like an occupation for her senses as her mind went over the possibilities. She was chewing her nails again.

"Alright," she said decisively, folding her legs on the bed. She took a deep, slow breath to relax herself and then closed her eyes. Using her abilities to locate life was not too difficult in a local area, but locating specific people was a little more challenging. Still, she was somewhat hopeful. In addition, she figured she would be having a lot of spare time.

She opened her mind's eye, and slowly observed the room. The image was quite blurry, particularly when she attempted to shift her viewpoint. Taking her time was going to be the key.

She moved forward, reacquainting herself with the way her ethereal form worked. The 'soul self' ability, as she came to refer to it, required an intense concentration to perform, as well as a deep meditative state. For all her practise, she still considered herself something of an amateur when it came to using this ability.

Turning around, she took several moments observing herself. She never failed to find it unnerving to see herself from a different perspective, particularly with her head slumped forward in such a way.

She took a deep breath. Or, at least, she tried to, but her body was not going to respond. Fortunately, she had developed other techniques for calming herself in her ethereal form. Sometimes, she would bring relaxing memories to her mind and concentrate on those for a while. At other times, she would focus her mind on a particular problem or puzzle. An odd and rather ironic puzzle she sometimes chose to dwell on was how she could access her memories, which were surely part of her physical body, and yet also not be able to directly control her breathing.

Having mastered her bearings in this room, she moved slowly toward the wall which lay ahead of both her physical and ethereal forms. She reasoned that if the entrance was to her left and there was a corridor there, another cell would most likely be ahead.

Reaching the wall, she instinctively felt the need to reach out a hand to test it. But, of course, there was no hand, only the self as a whole. Pushing this aside, she proceeded, into the wall.

Moving through walls was never an experience she had particularly enjoyed in the past, and this was no different. In fact, this was worse, since the wall was that much thicker than almost all the walls she had encountered. She had to pass through plastic panels, then thick metal panels, then several layers of brick before arriving at the metal and plastic sheets once more. Being so utterly surrounded made this no job for the claustrophobic.

The first thing that was apparent upon entering the new cell was that it was not occupied. Beside that, it was all but identical to Raven's, even down to the bland grey of the bed sheets.

Moving around the room, one more thing piqued her interest. There were no guards. Perhaps unsurprising, given the vacancy, but that did give rise to further assumptions. Firstly, that the cell was most likely to be permanently empty, as opposed to just temporarily, in the case of interrogations or medical practises. Secondly, given that, she could pursue the possibility that this room had been left empty purposefully. To what end, she was not entirely sure. Perhaps they did not want the Titans next to each other due to their abilities.

She decided that her next objective would be to check the status of the cell to the other side of hers. If that were also empty, it might support her theory.

Suddenly, she could feel something interrupting her energy flow. It was as if forces were acting on her mental projection, wearing against her focus. Realising something may be wrong; she turned and hastily made her way back to her cell.

Looking upon her body, it appeared unharmed, although the soldier stood next to it was cause for concern. He appeared to be barking orders toward the door, although Raven's concentration could not stretch to making out the individual words. Even so, she could make out his tone, which was very serious.

Raven sped across the room toward her body and rejoined with it.

"Miss? Miss? Are you alright?" A voice said. "Hey, I said get the doctor in here. Now! I think she's unconscious."

She slowly opened her eyes and readjusted to her physical form. It took a little getting used to, but it did not take her long.

"Miss?" the soldier prompted, noticing her movements.

"Oh, sorry," she replied groggily.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, finding her arms were where she had left them, and using them to rub her forehead.

"Are you sure? I couldn't rouse you for some time."

She cleared her throat and turned to the soldier. "I was in a deep meditation. Sometimes it takes a lot to rouse me."

"Oh," he replied with not more than a hint of relief. "Well… how will I know the difference between that and a medical situation?" he asked uncertainly. Raven almost allowed herself a smile at the actions of this soldier. He was clearly not feeling righteous enough to suggest she stopped meditating for the sake of his convenience.

"Don't worry. If I'm in the lotus position, I'm most likely meditating. If I'm slumped in any other position, I'm probably dead," she said flatly.

"Oh… right." The soldier's reply seemed to suggest he may have accepted her statement as not entirely serious, but duty in addition to her non joking manner encouraged him not to acknowledge it.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes. Also," he gestured toward a metal tray lying on the floor near the entrance, "that's for you."

She nodded and he made a deliberately slow exit.

Raven coughed a little more, clearing the air from her lungs. The last thing she needed when returning from her ethereal form was any sort of demand on her physical self. This included a conversation.

Her body was just so… physical and constraining. Were she not certain that she was under some kind of watch from the guards, she would have reverted back and roamed the room, enjoying the experience.

Steadying herself to her feet, she reminded herself that switching from one to another was always a challenge, and that she just had to get used to it. If only she did not have to be so concerned with blinking and breathing, it might be tolerable. She took a deep breath and blinked purposefully several times, knowing that it would become instinctive before she realised it.

She stepped over toward the tray, concentrating on the movement of her legs as well as her balance.

"What do we have here," she mumbled to herself as she examined the tray. There was some kind of stew, a bean dish, at least as far as she could tell, and some slices of fruit. Again, there was no cup. "Drinking straight from the tap is not the sort of luxury I have come to expect."

She stumbled back to her bed and fell into the pre-made dent in the sheets. She was not quite sure if she was hungry or not, but believed that eating something would be a good idea.

--------------------

"It's alright, you know," ventured Beast boy to the starring woman.

"I'm sorry?" she said, shaking her head slightly and regaining her focus.

"The ears," he explained, flicking one with his fingers. "People always ask."

"Actually, I was a little curious," she admitted, offering a warm smile. "But I didn't want to be rude."

"Not at all," he said, waving it off. A voice in the back of his mind was reminding him to be careful around this woman, but she was by far and above the most personable person he had met so far, and he was starved of social interaction. He figured he would just let his natural flamboyance get some exercise for a while.

"So…" she prompted.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, scratched his hair. "Well, as you probably already know, I can turn into various animals. That's no secret." She nodded along. "Anyway, there are some side effects to it, such as the green skin and the ears."

"And the teeth?"

"Oh yeah. Those too."

"Well," she said, looking briefly over her clipboard, "I can safely give you a clean bill of health."

"Really? Cool."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she laughed.

"Look," he said in a lowered, sober voice. He may not have known her true motives. She may be an enemy, or she may have been a friend. Somehow, though, Beast boy felt he could trust her; at least a little bit. One friendly face in a sea of hostility.

"Yes?"

"Umm… do you know how long we're gonna be in here?"

She lowered her clipboard and gave him a serious look. "I'm just a doctor here. I don't really get much information from the military command.

The trace of hope that held on his face dropped a little more. "But… you're working for them, right?"

"I'm sorry," she said as she looked away. "I only get told what I need to know." She seemed to sound almost apologetic.

Beast boy sighed and looked into his lap. He guessed he should have realised she would not have known. Even if she had, she probably would not have been allowed to tell him.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and looked up. "I can at least tell you your friends are okay."

"Really?" he replied hopefully, unable to stop himself smiling once more.

"Yes," she assured firmly. "I have been sent to check that you are all okay. I saw Raven and Starfire already."

"And they're okay?"

"Yes, they're in good health."

The sound of the door creaking open broke the understanding mood that had built up. A soldier stepped in, moving toward the doctor with some urgency.

"Doctor Harvey. You are needed," he informed.

"Oh?" she asked, coming to her feet.

"What is it?" pressed Beast boy.

"There has been an incident with the girl."

"Which girl?" asked Beast boy and the doctor in unison. The soldier glanced at Beast boy for a moment.

"Come with me please."

"Of course," she nodded, sounding a little concerned.

"Wait!" yelled Beast boy as the two moved toward the exit. "Which girl?"

The door came to a firm close, leaving Beast boy stood mid question. He looked through the thick glass disbelievingly. Surely he had the right to know if either Starfire or Raven were in trouble. That aside, it was going to be hard to do anything but worry until he heard what was going on, and judging by how free the information had been so far, that could be some time.

He plodded back to his bed and slumped down onto it, burying his face in the pillow. He sighed heavily and started to go through what might have happened with whichever girl it was.

"Hold on," he mumbled into the pillow. He sat up and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The doctor had said that she had already visited Starfire and Raven. Given how short a time they had been here, those visits must have been very recently. Therefore, since she had said they were alright, it was unlikely they were suffering from some illness. But maybe that was him just being hopeful. Yes, she had seen them, but, if he was honest, almost anything could have happened. They could have choked on their food, or had an accident, or been mistreated. Heck, he was not even sure it was them at all.

He grunted and ran his fingers through his hair. Worrying was so troublesome.

--------------------

"…so he told me the rest," said Ramsey, giving a self satisfied smile.

Jameson drummed his fingers on the table, glancing at Ramsey with a raised eyebrow. "So who is 'he'?"

"Tut tut," smiled Ramsey, shaking his index finger. "Classified."

"Well, I'm not _that_ concerned," he shrugged. "We're all on the same team, after all."

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't _you_ tell me what happened there?"

"You didn't ask."

"Oh… right," replied Ramsey somewhat sheepishly. "Would you have told me?"

"I guess we'll never know now."

"Hmph…"

"So, now you know, what are you doing to do about it?"

Ramsey ran his fingers down the slight stubble on his face. "Good question."

"Maybe… you want to take this to Hamilton," he suggested half seriously.

Ramsey shot him a disapproving glance. "Sensible ideas only, please."

"Oh right, _sensible_ ideas," he mocked. "How about this for a suggestion," he said in a far more serious tone. "You've got no evidence, you don't have the full story, and you've got nobody to tell. I would suggest keeping quiet, and hope you're not already in too far."

"Are you saying there's more to this story?"

"Are you saying you know everything that's going on here?"

"…I guess not. But come on, there's something seriously dodgy going on here for sure."

"You're _sure_ of that?"

"Well come on. We were never a back up squad for the Titans. If we were, this is the first I've ever heard about it. That was an excuse to be there, to cover up the real reason."

Jameson wore a cynical expression, but seemed prepared to entertain the theory. "And what is the real reason?"

"That part… I don't know."

"I've told you before, and I'll tell you again," advised Jameson calmly, "someone gave the orders to do this the way it was done. That means you can't take this up the ladder. If Hamilton found out you were digging around…"

"Wait," he interrupted, "you think he knows?"

"I dunno man. He might."

"Hmm. What do you think he would do?"

"Beats me, but it's off the record already. Since he came to your room…"

"Yeah I know," Ramsey nodded soberly. "If he decides to make a move… well, I don't know what he would do, but it would be serious."

"Well, you do have some things going for you," Jameson reassured.

"Oh?"

"All the things I said before. You don't have any evidence, or the full story, or anybody to tell. You're probably safe. For now."

"You're right. I need to get the full story, or some evidence."

"What? Are you kidding?" asked Jameson quite disbelievingly. "If you're safe now then you should give up." He stopped and sighed, seeing Ramsey's determination. "At least think about this."

"I have thought about this. I'm only surprised you still haven't come around to my way of thinking."

"The way that could get me into serious trouble."

"You may be able to live with what's going on here, but I sure as hell can't. You can be a coward all your life, but don't expect me to be."

"Hey now," Jameson growled. "You just watch what you're saying."

Ramsey looked Jameson squarely in the eyes, not prepared to back down. "If you're going to cover your own back while some innocent kids get sent down, then that makes you a coward in my book."

Jameson reluctantly shifted his gaze. "You've got to understand. There's the chain of command."

"_That_ is your defence?" Ramsey snorted.

"Hey, let me finish. Orders come down that chain and they have to be obeyed, and you don't always know why. What I'm saying is that there might well be a good reason those above us chose to issue the orders they did. They don't have to explain themselves."

Ramsey shook his head. "I can't believe you're still peddling that crap."

"Hey," snapped back Jameson. "That 'crap' is the life I, and _you_, have chosen to lead."

"Yeah, well, maybe that day I was under the illusion that orders would make sense."

"Alright then, let's assume, _for a moment_, that I did think you had a point. What would having me on board do for your cause?"

"Well firstly, it's not _my_ cause. If you were with me though, you might tell me what you know about the evidence that we used to falsely arrest the Titans," he explained. "Also, two heads are always better than one."

Jameson closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose slowly. "I dunno man…"

"Come on," Ramsey said, seeing that Jameson was close to breaking. "It's not like I'm asking you to _do_ anything."

"Apart from revealing classified information."

"Well… yeah… there is that."

He sighed and nodded his head slowly. "I'll think about it."

--------------------

Well, there you have it, dear readers. I did have to look up Tamaranean physiology. I hope you found that reasonably entertaining.


	13. Why did you imagine me?

Posted on 24/12/2006 (dd/mm/yyyy). I do not own the Teen Titans, but this story is my original work.

Working on Christmas Eve huh? Yes I am indeed. Merry Christmas to you. Also, it's been nineteen days since my last post. Getting sloppy huh. Well, I know none of you mind, so I'll try not to worry about it. Well hey, it _is_ Christmas, after all.

I did promise a shout this chapter. So Tilly6284, thanks for the continued support, plus the great reviews. I doubt anyone else knows (or really cares), but Tilly6284 does a little beta reading for me. I swore I'd never use a beta reader, but sometimes they can help to just pick up little mistakes you miss and what not.

Well then, on with chapter thirteen. The critics are calling this one the new chapter twelve, but I don't listen to them. Teen Titans, Go!

--------------------

Chapter 13

Raven stared at her reflection. She had long since passed the stage where the face that looked back at her seemed to be her own. The more she had observed it, the less familiar it seemed to become.

She broke off her eye contact and looked down at the running tap. It may have been a waste of water, but the noisy gushing which tore through the silence provided needed mental refreshment. Raven was definitely one who appreciated the quiet times, but days on end with barely more than her own thoughts were trying.

Watching the water drain away, she contemplated how little she really had to do. Sure, she could meditate, but she had traditionally used that to escape the bustling environment she was subjected to. Was it even possible to meditate too much?

Just as she started to address the seemingly paradoxical problem of her need for solitude versus her need for the affection of her friends, the clank of the door cut off her chain of thought.

In stepped the doctor, looking slightly flustered. On noticing Raven at the sink, she breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Raven, there you are. Are you okay?"

"Umm…sure," shrugged Raven, turning off the tap.

"Oh right," said the doctor, looking a little confused. "Well, the soldier said that you had collapsed…"

"I did not collapse," Raven informed with her usual lack of expression.

"I see. Well I'll go and check with the guard…"

"No… wait," called Raven, holding up her hand.

"Hmm?"

Raven took a moment to consider how best to phrase what she wanted to say. "Do you know anything about meditation?"

"I know about some alternative therapies…"

"Well I use meditation for relaxation. Sometimes," she continued, "you can reach such a level that it can take a short while to rouse you…"

"Oh I see," nodded the doctor. "So… shall I take it that was the situation in this case?"

"That's right."

"Ah. Well that's a relief," she smiled. Raven raised an eyebrow, unsure of whether it was appropriate for this so called doctor to be so free with her feelings. Was that really professional?

"Not really," mumbled Raven.

"Well, as long as you're alright…" she said, giving a look that clearly prompted an answer.

"I'm fine."

"Well then, I'll get out of your hair." She briefly surveyed the room before nodding to Raven and making her exit.

--------------------

"So, what's the news?" asked Robin, pacing back and forth.

"I wish I could say I had good news," explained Atticus, "but I don't."

"So then it's bad news?"

"Not really. I talked with Hamilton, but I didn't get a chance to put all my questions to him."

"Why, what happened?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. He just had other things to do."

Robin's face showed telltale signs of annoyance, but his voice remained even. "_Other things_?"

"Don't worry, I've already scheduled another meeting through his secretary."

"Okay. So what did you learn?"

"Well," replied Atticus, taking some notes from his briefcase, "first off, you're all in the frame for murder."

Robin stopped pacing and took a seat next to Atticus. "I guess that figures. Did they examine the body yet?"

"They're still working on that."

"Right."

"I also asked him about the newspaper."

"Oh?" Robin perked his head.

"He says he doesn't know anything about a leak."

"I'm sure he doesn't," responded Robin with an edge of sarcasm. "Anything else?"

"That was it for that session."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "That was _it_?"

"I'm afraid so." Before Robin could verbalise his frustration, he continued. "He was quite a tricky customer, but we'll get him."

"Get him how?" grumbled Robin, lowering his head. "For god's sake, we're trapped in here, and for what…"

"You're doing the right thing," reassured Atticus. "If you guys are seen to be above the law, it kind of discredits you as crime fighters."

Robin sighed. "I know. It's just so frustrating being held here. Who knows what could be going on outside."

"Well, on the bright side, we still have one good piece of evidence on our sides."

"I know…"

--------------------

"…the body!" announced Ramsey enthusiastically, clicking his fingers and looking very pleased with himself.

"Body?" questioned Jameson, looking up from his soup.

"Yeah. I just realised, it's the key."

Jameson shook his head and continued eating.

"Seriously, think about it. There are no witnesses, and all other evidence is pretty much circumstantial. That is the key piece of evidence, surely."

Jameson watched Ramsey's excited expression and rubbed his chin. He had to admit, he had a point. "When did you start thinking like a lawyer?"

"If I was a lawyer, I might have figured it out more quickly. Damn, it just never hit me before. I mean, that's the concrete evidence right there. _If_ there was going to be a cover up, that would have to be the first port of call."

"Yeah, I guess. But if it was the first port of call, they would probably already have done their thing. Taken care of it, I mean."

"I guess…" said Ramsey, mulling it over. "But there would still need to be _a_ body."

"Yeah…"

"And it would still have to have been killed by damage which would clearly implicate the Titans."

"So, you're saying they would have swapped it with a body which would class as evidence for their case?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But what if it was already…"

"First priority is getting a look at the body. Will you help me?"

Jameson took a deep breath and reviewed his options. Help Ramsey and possibly get demoted or receive a court martial, or stick within the rules and keep his job. Even if he wanted to choose the last option, he knew it would be the harder to live with. Some innocent kids might go to jail if he did not act. Ramsey had put forward a good case. Still, if there was a _third_ way, which meant both investigating the body as well as keeping his job safe, that would be ideal. "If we just _looked_ at the body," he suggested, "that's not against any rules that I know of."

Ramsey smiled and nodded. "Me neither."

--------------------

Raven folded her legs on the bed, taking a deep breath. She tried to shake the irritating thoughts that plagued her mind. Why was that woman taking such an interest? Where were the others being held? What was the meaning of that premonition? How their case progressing? Why had she not seen the light of day in days? Why was she not given a cup? Why did her cloak have to go missing at the worst possible time?

She took another deep breath and allowed those questions to wash away. They were no closer to being answered, but being able to let go of them was key to a relaxing meditation.

She relaxed her elbows atop her knees and closed her eyes. As she concentrated on her breathing, she pictured herself in a peaceful environment. The waves lazily lapped against the evening shore, and the moon cast its enchanting influence over the city. The air was warm and seductive, and everyone else lay resting in their beds. Raven had several recesses in her mind into which she could retreat, and this one was most adequate.

She released a breath and allowed the setting to stimulate her senses. This was a good place to be.

Beast boy strode over with exaggerated movements and plopped himself at her side, groaning loudly as he shifted himself into a less painful position. She suppressed the beginnings of a smile, as she felt his comforting presence. It was nice to know there was someone friendly nearby.

He gazed across the water, his eyes chasing the glints of the moon that rose and fell with the waves.

"It's good to see you again," he said softly. Yes, he could be annoying at times, but he could also be one of the most understanding and comforting people Raven knew, even if she was at odds to admit it.

"…and you," whispered Raven.

"Nice night. So quiet."

"It's good to be outside again."

"Sure is," he replied, smiling warmly.

Reaching his arms above his head to stretch, he yawned, rocking slightly to and fro. "You know I'm not really here, right?"

Raven nodded. "I know."

He shrugged. "Alright then. Just so long as you know."

They sat there for an extended moment of comfortable silence, letting the night wash over them.

"So… why did you imagine me?"

She shook her head slowly. "I guess thinking about the tower wouldn't be the same if nobody was there."

"You mean you prefer it with your friends?" he probed, leaning a little closer.

She cast a raised eyebrow in his direction, before lowering it and revealing a warmer expression. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But don't tell anyone."

"Hey, I'm you. Who am I gonna tell? The only person you hide it from is yourself."

"I don't hide it. You guys can just be very annoying."

"Whatever," he smiled wryly "But you know you're only trying to convince yourself."

She sighed, offering no reply. He was right of course. Or was it she who was right? Even though he was her, her mind made him as accurate a representation as it could manage.

"Stop thinking about whether I'm me or not."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He smiled and shook his head, looking out over the city. "You remember the entire skyline?"

She considered briefly the point of answering a question that she herself had asked, but figured it was all part of the same fantasy. "I come up here quite a lot."

"Tut tut," he said, waving a finger. "We both know that…"

"… it could be just how I picture the city to be." Although asking questions of oneself was a recommended path to self understanding, did the one asking really have to be Beast boy?

"Yes, it does," he answered frankly. "You lash out at people. That's your way of showing affection. But you lash out at me the most of all…"

"I'm really not going there."

"You already did," he explained.

"Fine," she admitted grudgingly. "You are tolerable sometimes. Happy now?"

"Depends. Are you?"

She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. He was awkward enough to argue with at the best of times, but when he had access to her thoughts, she was never going to be able to win. Even so, there was comfort to be had in the act of arguing with him itself. That was something she had not expected to miss.

"Sure would be good to be out of here," he mused.

"Here?"

"Not _here_ here. The prison."

"Oh right. Well, we just have to sit tight for now."

"Well, I'm going to sit tight, but you're supposed to be exploring the other rooms, remember?"

Raven eyed him curiously. Now that he mentioned it, she had intended on continuing her ethereal wandering, but how could he be able to remind her if she and he were one and the same.

"I don't know how it works either," he shrugged.

"Well then," she said, coming to her feet and dusting herself off. "I guess I have to go."

"Later," he waved.

Her awareness of the tower drifted, and the real world trickled back into her mind. The tower was definitely more appealing, but she had work to do.

--------------------

Beast boy yawned and looked up at the ceiling. It was not the evening, although he could not be sure exactly when it was. With so little to do, sleeping was starting to become a way of passing the time.

Resting his hands behind his head, he tried to fight off the pang of stress that came from worrying about Starfire or Raven. Still, he thought, even if they were hurt, they would surely be in good hands. After all, they had a doctor on call, and probably some decent medical facilities.

He rolled over on to one side. Somehow, he could take little comfort. But then he could do nothing about it either. He would just have to deal with it. He would also have to deal with the fact that he really did not have much of an idea of what was going on here. Sure, they had been arrested, but what was being done about it? How long would he be in here? When would he see his friends again?

Sighing, he rolled over on to his other side. Thinking worrying thoughts always made it more difficult to sleep. He made a conscious decision to try and think about something else. But what could he think about to push away those thoughts? It would definitely have to be something interesting. Besides, he had heard that taking a break from a problem can help to solve it. Not that here was anything to solve here, but not thinking about it for a while might do him good.

His own room. That would do it. His own comfy bed. Not that this bed was uncomfortable, but his own… now there was a bed. Comfortable, warm, welcoming and nice smelling. Well, to him at least. The others probably would not appreciate it, but maybe that was part of the appeal. It was a private place for him alone.

"Think about what you're missing," he muttered sarcastically, "yeah, that'll make you feel better." Maybe he could think about Clara. Yes, there was something good to think about. Plus, she was owed some Beast boy thinking time. She must be starting to wonder where he had gotten to. Hopefully she would not be thinking he had just stopped calling her. Then again, it had only been a couple of days; she had probably not given it too much thought.

As he drifted off, he went over their date after the mayor's ceremony. The sharing of the pizza, the debate over the best type of milkshake and the walk back to her place. Her dad was still a concern, but at least he was welcoming. Then there was the video game session. She was definitely well practised at games, since she was almost as good as him. Although she did resort to cheating to win.

"Come on Beast boy," she yelled.

"Huh?"

"I've got it in the bag!"

He focused on the TV screen before him. Even though he had not made any effort, he seemed to be just about catching up to her.

"Clara for the win," she boasted. He pushed several buttons on the pad, trying to get the hang of the controls, but there seemed to be little correlation between his actions and what was going on in the game.

"Come on man, you can beat her," said Cyborg, who was now sat to Beast boy's left.

As they both watched, the pressure seemed to grow on him to win the race, but the stress also grew as his frantic button presses seemed to amount to nothing. "I think it's broken," he complained.

"Aw now there's a sore loser," smiled Cyborg, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Yeah, c'mon Beast boy."

"I don't… get it," he said in confusion, still trying to figure out the controls.

He opened his eyes, taking a sharp breath. He slowly realised where he was, and relaxed again, patting his pillow and settling himself under the duvet. It was so good to be in his own bed.

Even though he thought about getting back to sleep, he was awake now. He lay facing his door, his eyes open yet resting. "Aaah," he breathed. Waking up early had many advantages, such as being able to enjoy a relaxing, peaceful moment without having to worry about where he had to be or whether he was late for something.

Glancing at his bedside clock, he figured the only other person who would be up at this hour would be Raven. Maybe he should go and see if I could find her. Then again, his bed was just so warm. She could wait.

A steady rapping on his door interrupted his efforts to completely wrap himself in his duvet. Perhaps if he waited, they would just go away.

"Go away," he grumbled into his pillow before pushing the duvet off him. "Alright," he called, "I'm coming."

He slid out of bed and trudged over to the door, avoiding an old pizza box. Even if this was Raven, he was definitely going to give the person at the door a stern talking to.

The door slid open. It was Raven. It did not seem to him like she was about to tell him off for something, nor did she appear to be in a bad mood generally. Could her expression be hinting that she was glad to see him? This was a thought he dismissed quickly.

"Beast boy, are you alright?" Even her voice bore traces of concern.

He eyed her suspiciously. "I guess… at least I was until you got me out of bed."

"You _do_ know this is a dream, right?"

"Actually no, I just woke up," he said, pointing over to this bed. "You just interrupted me."

She shook her head for a moment, and reconsidered her approach. "We are in your dream right now. You're currently asleep in a prison cell," she explained.

He scratched his head, further messing up his post sleep hair. "Then… aren't you part of my dream too?"

"Yes and no."

"Err… okay…"

"Yes in the way that I am in your mind and in your dream, and therefore a part of it, but no in the way that I am not an entity of your mind."

"So… you're saying you're actually Raven?"

"That is what I'm trying to say."

"Hmm…" He continued to look bewildered. "Wait a minute. How do I know you're not just in my mind, but acting as I think you normally would?"

"That is a good question," she admitted, sounding somewhat impressed.

"I don't think the real Raven would ever compliment me like that," he pointed out.

"She might."

"Well, I don't think she would."

"This is getting us nowhere," she protested.

Beast boy rubbed his chin, thinking over the situation. "This may be a stupid question," she raised an eyebrow, "but do you have any ideas?"

"I do," she said, clicking her fingers. Before he knew what was going on, they were stood in what seemed to be some kind of prison cell.

After several moments, a look of realisation came over Beast boy's face. "Ohh…" he said, nodding slowly as his brain caught up.

"So you're with me now?"

"I think so… so I'm having a dream that I'm trapped in a cell while, in reality, I'm actually asleep, trapped in a cell." That may be the last time he ever had use for that sentence.

"That's about it."

He looked over toward the bed. "Then why isn't my body laid there?"

"Because it's a dream and you didn't dream that," she replied, with a strong intonation that Beast boy had been robbed of any chance at an education.

"Oh, right," he grinned sheepishly. "But then, assuming you're not a dream, why are you here? More to the point, _how_ are you here?"

"I can…" she considered for a moment explaining it in full detail, but concluded it would most likely be a big waste of time.

"Well?"

"I projected my mind into yours."

He clasped his head in his hands mockingly. "You totally invaded my mind without permission."

She sighed. "Well, at least you believe I'm not a figment of your imagination."

"I never said that."

"Well… I don't think it's possible for me to prove I am who I say I am. At least, not in our current circumstances."

"Hmm…" he said, rubbing his chin. "How would you prove it ordinarily?"

"Well, I'd just say something particular and unusual now, then repeat that thing next time I saw you when we were awake."

"Aah," he nodded. "But since we're locked up, you can't do that now."

"No."

"And there's no other way?"

She considered the problem for a moment. "As far as I know, there isn't."

"What about if you told me something that only you know?" he suggested.

"Hard as this may be to believe, I have already considered that option."

"Then why wouldn't that work?"

She eyed him up, wondering whether he would understand the answer if she told him. Still, maybe confusing him would shut him up. "Well, anything I tell you that you supposedly don't know could be true or not."

"Umm… how so?"

"If this were a dream, and you asked me to tell you something that you didn't know, your mind would just come up with a likely answer. You'd have no idea if it was the truth or not."

"So… you're saying the only way to prove it is outside the dream?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," he replied, thinking deeply, pressing his chin into his hand. "So… you can't think of any way? Oh wait… did the doctor visit you? Oh! Did you collapse?"

Raven shifted around on her feet uncomfortably. "I did _not_ collapse."

"Then what?"

"I was just meditating. One of the guards thought I had passed out or something."

"Aha!" he declared, snapping his fingers. "I can ask her next time I see her. If it's true, then this was you."

She rubbed her nose and closed her eyes. "Yes Beast boy," she replied calmly with a mildly patronising tone, "but that doesn't solve our current situation."

"Oh… right. Well, there's no harm in me just assuming it's you for now, is there?"

"Well, no, but it might give you false hope if you think I'm alright when I'm not."

"Don't even joke about that," he responded sternly. "Besides," he waved his hand, "I can check with the doctor next time I see her."

"Okay."

He grinned, clearly having yet another brilliant idea. "You know, since you can take us to different places…"

"Yeah…"

"Well, you could take us somewhere nicer," he proposed with big, pleading eyes.

Raven shrugged. "I suppose. Anywhere in particular?"

"Hmm…" he scratched his chin, wearing something of a mischievous grin.

"Okay," he decided finally. "Jump City ice rink in the middle of winter." He waved his hands, attempting to represent the falling snow as Raven watched. She was not impressed. "C'mon Ray, please?"

"Fine." She clicked her fingers, and before he had time to blink, they were stood in the middle of a vast field of ice.

"Wow," he grinned excitedly, turning around and taking it all in. A snowstorm blew in from the east, obscuring all but the nearest objects with thick, white flakes. Shielding his eyes with his hands, he could just about make out the high rise buildings of Jump City which surrounded them on all sides. A strong wind whistled by his ears, chilling his extremities. He was far from caring though. This was great.

"Are you sure this was the best idea?" came a raised voice from behind him.

He grinned at Raven, raising two thumbs up. Having the ability to control where he went in his dream was extraordinarily cool. He could go anywhere, bound only by his imagination.

"Okay," he yelled. "How about somewhere warmer?"

She would have been annoyed at his short attention span, but she was also eager to find some place a little more hospitable. Clicking her fingers, she changed their location once again.

"What the… I didn't mean _here_," he complained, shaking the snow from his head.

She shrugged and took a seat on the couch. "I didn't come here to take you on a tour of the world, you know."

"But the tower? Come on, there are far better places. And anyway, why can't I change locations? It's _my_ dream after all," he griped. "Also, what's with the finger clicking? Shouldn't it be like 'Azarath Metrion Beast boy' or whatever?"

"You can change locations," she explained. "As for the clicking, that's more about focusing _your_ mind."

He took a seat beside her and closed his eyes. If anyone could have been said to be thinking hard, it would be Beast boy now. His eyes were scrunched shut, and his face creased with determination. "Nnngh," he gurgled.

Raven folded her arms and watched him struggle. He slowly cracked open one eye, before opening the other and looking somewhat perplexed. "This isn't my own personal castle filled with women."

Raven groaned.

"I don't get it then. How do I change location?"

"It takes a certain amount of practise and discipline, you know..."

"Yeah yeah, but how do I do it?"

"Fine," she growled. "It's all about realising this is a dream."

"But I already know this is a dream. See? It's a dream," he said, clicking his fingers several times.

"I can tell you it and you can tell yourself it, but until you fully accept it you can't really manipulate it. To you," she gestured around with her hand, "all this might as well be reality."

"Hmm… so then how can you change it?"

"I don't really; you do."

He rubbed his entire face with both of his hands, before shaking his head. "Alright, I officially don't get it."

"It's just a matter of practise. So anyway, to the reason I'm here…"

"Yeah, let's talk about that."

"Well, I just wanted to see if you were okay,"

"Which I am," he declared, patting his chest.

"Right, and I wanted to know if you knew anything about the case, or maybe where the others are being held."

"Well, some guy in the prison van said we were all going to the same place, so I guess the others are around here someplace," he said. Upon noticing her slightly pained expression, he continued, "but I'm guessing since you already found me, you already figured that out huh?"

"Beast boy, the genius," she announced with a trademark lack of humour.

"I don't know anything about the case either. Maybe you should have looked for Robin first," he suggested.

"I didn't _know_ where people were, otherwise I would have."

"Oh right…"

They sat there in a moment of silence. Beast boy kicked his feet uncomfortably, while Raven made her best efforts to ignore him. "Um," he started, "so… you want anything else?"

"I think that's about it." She stood up and brushed herself down.

"Wait… are you just going to leave me here?" he asked, sounding somewhat anxious.

"That was the plan."

"But… so… do I just have to wait here until I wake up? I mean… it's going to get pretty boring."

She shrugged. "It's your dream."

"Well… how long until I wake up?"

"I have no idea. When did you go to sleep?"

"That's...umm…" he counted his fingers, "I dunno. Can't you just click me off to somewhere nice?"

Raven looked at Beast boy's desperate expression for a moment and felt a twinge of pity. "I suppose."

"Great! Alright, I've been thinking of where I want to go… and oh, can you put people there?"

"This is your dream…"

"But can you?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"Alright then. I want to be at the Royal Casino, at the poker tables," he said, making grand gestures with his hands. "The night is young and the stakes are high. The game is Texas Hold 'Em and there are six players. Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Elvis Presley, JFK, the queen of England and myself. In this round, there is the ace of spades, the jack of clubs and the five of hearts on the table. Now the queen has lots of money, so she doesn't mind betting, but Einstein is smarter than that, so…"

Click.

"Hey!"

"Yes, mister Beast boy?" came a sharp female voice from ahead of him. He realised quickly what was going on. She was a teacher, and this was a classroom. Additionally, Raven did not appear to be with him.

"Oh… umm… nothing, Mrs… err…" he squirmed.

A few faceless students behind him laughed and pointed, before being shushed by the teacher. "Perhaps you could solve the problem on the black board?"

"I…err," he said nervously, becoming quickly aware of his profuse sweating. "I don't think I know this one…"

"Oh come one," she exhaled. "You've just written it down in your notes."

He noticed the note book on his desk and started to leaf through. It did not take him long to find it was entirely empty. "This is _not_ funny, Raven," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry, if you have something to say, perhaps you could share it with the whole class?"

--------------------

"I don't see your names down," said the pale balding man behind the glass screen as he adjusted his round spectacles.

"Uh…" Ramsey rubbed the back of his head, offering a nervous smile.

"We need an appointment now?" asked Jameson.

"Sorry," shrugged the man. "Orders."

Jameson shot Ramsey a look and gestured him over, out of ear shot of the man behind the glass.

"That not suspicious enough for you?"

"That doesn't tell us anything, Ramsey," said Jameson as he nodded and smiled at the attendant.

"Yeah, we've got to get in there."

"Are you crazy? Regardless of what we believe, if we start going against orders, we'll be lucky not to get locked up ourselves."

Ramsey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What we need is a plan. Actually…" he stepped back to the window. "What happens if we're ill?"

"There's an on call doctor who can come and see you. This is just a temporary measure, private."

"Dr. Charleston?"

"Erm," he checked some papers in front of him. "No, he's away. The doctor is called Emily Harvey."

"I see," he nodded. "Thanks."

Ramsey made his way over to Jameson. "Charleston's not in. It's a woman…"

"Yeah…"

"Well, that might be better because I could…"

"No."

"Yeah, but she could be…"

"No."

They both stood there for a moment, trying their best not to look suspicious. "She has access, though," Ramsey pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe."

"So if we can get her on side…"

"You've got to be crazy. You don't know the first thing about her. She could …" The attendant perked his head at the raised voices. They nodded and smiled, lowering their voices once more. "She could go straight to Hamilton if you start asking strange questions."

"Then I've just got to ask the right questions. You've got to romance a lady."

Jameson raised a cynical eyebrow. "On a serious note, how do we get hold of her? If the infirmary's closed, she's gonna be all over the place on call outs."

Ramsey winked. "Don't worry my friend, for I have a plan."

"I don't like the sounds…" Before Jameson could finish airing his complaint, Ramsey was making his way back to the attendant behind the glass. He looked like a man with better things to do that deal with two time wasting soldiers all day.

"Yes?" he asked without any hint of interest.

"Yeah, hi," greeted Ramsey with a low key tone. "I was just discussing something with my friend over there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah… well since the infirmary's closed and the doctor's out on call, I was hoping you could help me with something. See, I got together with this girl a few weeks ago."

"Right..."

Ramsey reached for his trouser zip and started to undo it. "I was thinking maybe there's a cream for this…"

The man looked suitably taken aback with a mixture of shock and disgust. "No no, I don't really deal with things like that."

"Well you sure, because I really need someone to take a look at it, and you're the only one around…"

"No, wait," he said nervously. "No, the doctor will be back soon. I'll make sure she comes and sees you straight away."

Ramsey edged his zip back up, much to the relief of the attendant. "Well, just make sure she does. It's getting to be a real pain in the…"

"Yes. Er... what was the name?"

"Ramsey, W."

"Okay, I've made a note of that. I'll send her over as I can."

"Thanks."

He stepped back over Jameson, who was using one hand to shield his eyes. "Let's go."

"You're wearing your trousers, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay then." He removed his hand, looking somewhat relieved to see that Ramsey was, indeed, wearing his trousers. "Risky trick."

"I know," he smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Now all you have to do is convince this female doctor that some crazy soldier who lured her to his room with a fake STD is more credible than the chain of command. I don't fancy your chances."

"Well, this way at least I will get time alone with her. It's a start."

"I guess," he shrugged. "By the way, what would you have done if he hadn't stopped you?"

Ramsey shook his head and raised his eyebrows. "I don't want to think about that."

"You and me both."

--------------------

"Shut up."

"No, you shut up."

"No, _you_ shut up."

"Daaaad!"

Clara and her sister maintained burning glares at each other from either side of the living room.

"Brat," sniped Erica.

"Bitch," she replied.

"Daaad!" yelled Erica toward the door.

"I'm busy girls," he called from another room.

"Now you disturbed him. Well done," jabbed Erica sarcastically.

"You called him too, idiot."

"Yeah, well _you_ called him first."

Clara rolled the television remote between her hands, dangling it in the face of her enemy like a spoil of war. Erica responded by running her fingers along the panel of buttons on the front of the television set. Each easily had the power to ruin any show the other wanted to watch. It was a stalemate.

"Well I guess if you're going to be immature about it, neither of us can watch."

"Well why do we always have to watch what _you_ want to watch?"

"We _never_ watch what I want to watch! We're always watching the crap you put on."

"Well it's better than the rubbish you watch."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Well all _my_ friends think The Misty Ear Files is the stupidest thing on TV. Nobody watches it anymore."

"_Please_, like your stupid friends know anything."

"Better that your stupid friends. Who was that really ugly one? Jess or something?"

"At least my friends are mature. We watch shows for grown ups, not like the kids' shows you and your friends watch."

"Those shows aren't for kids, you idiot," argued Clara spitefully.

Their heads both turned swiftly as their father entered the room. They instantly assumed a well practised posture of innocence.

"What the heck is going on in here?" he asked sternly. "How am I supposed to talk to someone on the phone with you two screaming at each other in here?"

"But she started…" they both began, raising accusing fingers at each other.

"I don't care _who_ started it," he interrupted. They both fell silent, but exchanged unpleasant looks.

"Now then," he exhaled, taking a seat on the sofa beside Clara. "Can we watch some television?"

"Only if Clara gives up the remote."

"Yeah, and only if Erica turns the TV back on."

Their dad held out his hand toward Clara. "Remote."

She guiltily passed it to him, avoiding eye contact.

"Erica. TV."

"Yes dad," she replied sheepishly, turning on the TV.

"Now come and sit here."

She trudged toward the couch, head down and hands in pockets. She slumped down next to her dad.

"Right then," he said somewhat contentedly to his girls on either side, "what shall we watch?"

There was a momentary silence as the uneasy truce held. Both girls knew that suggesting their own favourite show would risk starting up another argument and get them a stern telling off from their dad.

"The news," the both replied flatly. Since it was what they knew their dad was probably going to watch anyway, it was be the safest option.

"News it is," he said, changing the channel. He shuffled about slightly, making himself comfortable.

"Dad," giggled Clara as he pushed into her.

"Thanks Tom. Next on JCN, we round up the week's political events in Politics Talk, but first a round up of our main headlines…"

Clara blew out some air as a means to express her dissatisfaction with the choice of shows without having to go through the hassle of an argument. She was pretty sure Erica would feel the same way.

"The Teen Titans are being held in a secure facility after having given themselves up…"

"What?!" blurted Clara. Erica shushed her quickly; also clearly eager to know what was happening.

"Earlier today, police commissioner Charles Stokes published a statement, in which he explained how the Teen Titans were currently being held in relation to an alleged murder."

"Murder?" blurted Clara once more.

"I want to listen to this," scolded her sister.

"We have with us Alexander Korby, our press correspondent. Alex, I understand there's some controversy around this statement."

"Well yes Tanya. Of course, we all remember the article which first appeared in the Jump City Gazette. The question on many people's lips is whether the commissioner's statement is a direct response to that article, or whether it was an independent and purely coincidental action. Plus, of course, people are wondering how the city will cope in the absence of the Titans."

"Thanks Alex. Recently, the government published a report assessing how it has coped with key environmental targets…"

The television clicked off.

The family sat in silence for several moments as the news sank in.

"Murder…?"

--------------------

Well, there you have it. And you know what? I actually have things to say in this closing statement.

Firstly, I'd like to tell Tilly6284 not to quit her current TT fic writing aims. You can do it!

Secondly, now, I don't like to blow my own trumpet, but I loved both reading and writing those scenes with Raven and BB (her meditation and his dream). They would have made totally excellent one shots. Still, as it is, they made a good change of pace, and a break from the main story.

Thirdly… ah yes, that was it. There was a second shout out in this chapter. I hate doing those shout outs which actually impose on the story, but in this case I needed a name for something, so it was appropriate. I'm sure the person will realise and thank me in their review… or at least they had better.

Merry Christmas. Eat lots and be nice to each other.


End file.
